


Trelawny

by smalltrolven



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angsty Schmoop, Case Fic, Curtain Fic, Established Relationship, Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M, Past Relationship(s), Reunion Sex, Schmoop, Soul Bond, Switching, re-established relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-18
Updated: 2013-07-18
Packaged: 2017-12-20 15:29:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 50,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/888846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smalltrolven/pseuds/smalltrolven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Winchester brothers finally get around to re-kindling their relationship in their new, slightly more boring life, (fic begins after all the Gates of Heaven, Hell and Purgatory have been closed.)  All thanks to a case involving a beautiful three story house in Vermont, that’s there and isn’t and sometimes disappears couples whose families don’t accept their love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Author’s Note: Written for the 2013 spnj2-bigbang, big huge thanks to my amazing beta stella-lost.  
> Disclaimer: Not my characters, only my words.  
> Warnings: Spoilers through episode 8.23.

The _tink-tink-tink_ against the windshield is impossible to ignore.  Sam sighs, refusing to look up and see what Dean is doing now.  Sam is trying to concentrate, find them a new case, which are a whole lot harder to come by since they successfully closed the gates of both Heaven and Hell.  His search is getting a little desperate because a bored Dean is just about as much fun as July in Vegas.  But so far, he is only coming up with something that might end up being a big nothing.  A maybe possible something, all the way up in Vermont is better than nothing. Nothing else left for them to do, but a maybe possible haunting which would be a welcome diversion at this point. 

Finally Sam looks up to see Dean reclining on the front hood of the Impala, he’s clinking his empty beer bottle in time to the music. Even when they are stopped Dean is in motion, preferably moving to his preferred tunes.  Sam can see Dean’s face in profile as he looks off the edge of the cliff they are parked on.  The sunset is spectacular, and the orange light reflects on the planes of Dean’s familiar, well-worn face is made even more beautiful.  He sighs, wishing for the thousandth time that he could just pipe up and say that.  Give Dean something to chew on besides just the boredom, give them both something to work on, like getting them back to where they were. 

Sam sighs again, admitting to himself that it is probably not ever going to happen if it hasn’t by now.  They barely stuck together when Dean came back from Purgatory, and at least as far as work goes they’re pretty much in sync again, which is a good thing.  But everything else that they had once between them has vanished along with all the angels, demons and monsters.  Sealed up as tight as all those Heavenly doors.  _Where’s the tablet for us?_ He wonders to himself _, I’d like to open that door up, see if there’s still anything left inside._

He’s startled out of his reverie by the sounds of Dean moving around and looks up, meeting Dean’s eye through the windshield, “C’mon Sammy, got another cold one out for you.”  Dean’s holding up two beer bottles in one hand and gesturing at him.  Sam puts away his smartphone and gets out, stretching his arms out wide and then hopping up next to Dean on the hood.  Dean hands him a beer wordlessly and sits back in their comfortable silence.  They both look out over the ravine, the sun sinking down, over the far hill backlighting the ridgeline of trees.  Sam points it out so that Dean won’t miss it.  

“Not bad huh?” Dean asks, clinking their bottles together.

Sam smiles and doesn’t answer just takes a long pull off his beer, noticing that Dean’s looking at him.

“What?” he asks.

“Nothing, just glad you joined me research boy.”

Sam rolls his eyes at the name, and answers with a bit of sarcasm, “Well, this research boy found us a new job.”

“Spill it then.”

“Looks like it might be a haunting, up in Vermont.  Near Smuggler’s Notch.”  Sam says, knowing with about one hundred percent certainty that Dean will love the name of the place.

“Smugglers huh, like prohibition era booze stuff?”

“Yeah pretty much, there’s a house that’s disappearing pairs of teenagers at almost every equinox.”

“So we’ve got a little time before the next one then.”

“Yeah, but we might as well get up there and check it out.”

“Not like we’re doin’ anythin’ else right?”  Dean clinks their now empty bottles together in a congratulatory sort of way.  Being the guys who shut the doors of Hell, then Heaven and finally Purgatory counts for something at least.  A reduced work load.

Days of driving from Oregon finally get them to Vermont.  These cross-country trips are so much a part of their lives they don’t even notice the miles flying under the tires of the Impala.  Sam folds his big frame up like he always has, practically curls up in the passenger seat, re-reading all of Terry Pratchett’s books now that he finally has the time.  He’s got the whole series in a cardboard box in the back seat and is just plowing through them one after the other. 

Dean’s gotten used to his snorts of laughter by now, happy just to have this at least.  Them in the car, onto another case.  At least they’re not fighting anymore, but if he’s honest with himself, he misses the rest of it.  They’re friends again at least, and their bond as brothers has been cemented through the trials that they underwent together to close all those damned doors.  But the rest of it, seems so out of reach, and he just plain misses it.  Being able to reach over while he’s driving and touch Sam’s neck or knee or look at him for longer than a glance or two.  So close, but yet so far, at least they’re still alive at the same time and seemingly pointed in the same direction for once.  He sneaks a look at Sam out of the corner of his eye, and bites his lip thinking of all they used to have together.

~!~~!~!

As they roll into town, there seems to be only one choice for lodging, Dean’s heart sinks into his stomach.  Not sure he can take what he’s pretty sure is about to happen.  “Looks like we’re going to be bed and breakfasting on this one Sammy.”

Sam ruthlessly shoves down the thrill he still gets hearing that nickname, and at the idea of their usual ruse at these kind of places, “We decide on a cover yet?”

“Since we’ve got to stay at this place, probably for more than a few days, how about writers?” Dean suggests.

Sam nods at Dean’s good idea, “Ghost story book or something else?”

“How about we mix it up a little, travel website?”

Sam smiles at the idea of it, them writing for a travel website, “Ooh, good one, then they’ll have to treat us well so we mention them in the article.”

They get out of the car, slamming the doors in sync, and walk up the wide steps to the porch.  A middle-aged woman is sitting on a swing sewing something out of colorful pieces of fabric, probably a quilt given where they are in Northern New England.  “Good afternoon gentlemen, can I help you?”  She asks, barely looking up a moment from her stitching.

Dean gives Sam one of those patented ‘get a load of her ignoring our awesomeness’ looks, “Yes, hello, we’d like to book a room for a few nights.”

“We’re completely empty right now, so you have your choice, hold on just a moment, gotta finish this.”  She takes a few more stitches and then cuts her thread, puts her needle away in a case and stands up. 

Sam’s eyes go wide as he sees how tall she is, she’s looking him eye to eye, she winks at Sam and then says, “Come on in then.”

She leads them through the fancy stained wood door into the sitting room, “You can have a seat there, I’ll be right back with our rate sheet.”  She points at a small floral upholstered love seat which is at least thankfully free of doilies, although there is a beautiful quilt folded over the back of it.  They both sit down and arrange themselves as well as they can on the small piece of furniture.

“So here, we have some package rates for some of the nearby spas, one with the nice restaurant in town, or just the room, or there’s always our honeymoon one.”  She’s trying to suss out exactly who they are to each other without asking the elephant in the room question, more polite than a lot of the lodging people they’ve dealt with over the years.

But how to answer that question, for them right now?  ‘It’s complicated’ isn’t really a good answer that she’d understand.  So Dean just goes for it, what they usually do at a B&B, “The restaurant one looks good.  My Sammy here loves good food.” He hands over the credit card of the week, hoping it still has enough on it for a few days at this place.

She relaxes as soon as she understand him, “Oh, I’m so sorry, I didn’t introduce myself. My name’s Celeste, welcome by the way.”

“I’m Dean, it’s real nice to be here Celeste, we’ve had a long drive.”

“Oh really, where’d you come from?”

“We’re based out of Kansas usually, but we’ve been on the road for a while.”

“Oh really, on a road trip for fun?”

“Business really, we’re travel writers.”

“Well that’s great, let me know if you need any information about the local area.”

“We’re actually interested in the oldest house in town.”

“Oh you mean Trelawny?” she asks, sounding a little surprised and slightly hesitant.

Sam checks his notebook, “Yeah, that’s it.  Do you know anything about it, is it nearby?”

“It’s about five miles out of town, and yes, there’s a book that one of our locals wrote, let me see.”  She walks over to a small bookcase that has paperbacks and other random books, “yes here it is, this should help.  It’s an interesting place.”

“How so?”

“Everyone always has a different story about it when they see it, you’ll just have to go look for yourselves.   Now let me show you up to your room.”

They follow her up the creaking wood staircase, looking at the unassuming watercolors on the wall, at least it’s not overly froofy like most of these B&B places usually are.  “Here you go.”  She opens the door to a large room that has a huge, bigger than king-sized bed in the middle of it with a rounded wall of windows across, a door off to the side looks to be a bathroom.

“What a beautiful room.” Sam says, struck by the sunlight and the freshness of the place.

“I hope you enjoy your stay.” She says as she leaves the room, closing the door behind her.

Dean flops down on the bed, stretching out like a cat, trying to unkink from the day of driving.  Sam putters around for a while, hanging up their suits and looking out the big windows.

“I like this place.”

“Yeah, it’s not bad.  How about Celeste?  She’s as tall as you Sasquatch.”

“I noticed, pretty unusual.”  He sits down in the overstuffed chair and starts paging through and scanning the book she’d lent them.  Sam’s not sure why Dean went with  this particular cover, them as a couple, but it usually works best in these B&B places where you are expected to interact with the owner a little more than at their usual fly-by-night motels.  “So, uh dinner package huh?  You takin’ me out on a date I need to know about?”

Dean rolls his eyes and laughs, groaning internally at Sam’s perception, he thought he’d be able to do something nice for Sam without him noticing for once, “Nah, just thought it would work for our cover, and I really didn’t feel like hitting a spa you know?  Plus, we gotta eat, might as well be good stuff for once.”

Snorting a little at his brother’s practicality, and to hide his not-so-small disappointment, Sam buries himself back in the book.  Pretty soon, Dean’s snoring lightly and Sam can look at him without consequence.  Stretched out on that huge bed, relaxed and peaceful instead of wound-tight and on-edge, Dean looks like another person almost, someone he recognizes and misses so strongly it’s hard to imagine how he’s going to get through the next few days sleeping next to him in that big bed.  Sam mentally gives himself twenty lashes for even going there in his thoughts, and concentrates on the book.

  
~@~!~@~!~

Dean finally wakes up from his nap, and they head out in the early evening to see the house for themselves, the late August sun still pretty bright even this far north.  Celeste was right, it’s not too far of a drive through the deep forest, the streets and town are pretty, well-kept, yet sparsely populated, the houses seem to be very far apart from one another.  Finally they pull up to the top of the biggest hill in the area, up a long paved driveway where it ends in a circle around an enormous tulip tree.  Sam gets out and looks up at the tree, “Man this thing must be two hundred feet tall!”

“Yeah, but look at the house!” Dean says waving towards the empty grassy meadow space, Sam can just see the river twinkling way down below.

“What house? I can see the river way down the hill though.”

“The house Sam, right here in front of you.” Dean gestures emphatically in front of him.

Sam walks over to stand next to him, “Dean, I can’t see anyth…hold on, if I stand here I can just make it out.”

“Whattaya mean?” Dean asks, craning his neck up behind to look at Sam.

“It’s like see-through or something, I don’t know.”

Dean strides over to the house and starts to put his hand on the door knob.  “Do you see this?”

“Dean, stop, don’t touch it!”

“Why?”

“I don’t know, don’t you think we ought to investigate it before you go in, it might be cursed or something.”

Dean pulls his hand back just in time without touching the doorknob,  he can peer into the bay windows on either side of the front door from the porch,  “This place is amazing Sam, come here maybe you can see if you’re standing closer.”

Sam reluctantly joins him on the porch and yeah, he can see it a little more clearly, and the place is gorgeous, like something out of a fantasy house contest magazine.  Now that he’s concentrating and standing right next to it, he can see that there are comfortable couches in a living room on one side and on the other there’s an enormous dining room table with chairs and a china cabinet gleaming with crystal and silver.  “Wow, yeah, I can.”

“I think we should go in.” Dean says, obviously itching to explore.

Sam reaches out and lands a hand on Dean’s shoulder, holding him still, “No Dean, hold on.  If I can’t see it all the way and you can, that’s got to mean something.”

“Fine.  But we’re coming back tomorrow, I’ve gotta look around inside this place, who knows what’s in all those rooms, I think it’s got like three stories.”

Sam steps off the porch and leans back to look up, “Yeah, I think there’s a room or something up there besides just an attic, but I can’t really see it clearly. Let’s go, I’m getting hungry.”  He turns and starts walking back towards the Impala.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m comin’” Dean says, hesitating on the porch for one last look in the front window, but giving up when he sees Sam already getting in the passenger side door.

They spend a long time enjoying dinner at one of the nicest restaurants they’ve been to in ages, where they spend most of the time not even talking about the case, but about where the best steak they’ve ever had instead.

As they walk out of the restaurant, Sam holds the door open for Dean, “This was really good Dean, thanks for uh, picking the dinner package.”  It’s pretty much the best night they’ve had together in a long time that he can remember, and it seems like they’re both feeling on an even keel around the other. 

Dean looks up at him in surprise, touching Sam lightly on the small of his back to get him going towards the car, “Yeah, uh, guess it was a good call.  Even I can’t eat cheeseburgers every night. Glad you liked it Sammy.” Something in Dean relaxes a little, just hearing his brother acknowledge that this was a good thing, the dinner, the whole evening so far has been just what they needed. He realizes that he feels more like “them” than he has in a very long time.

But then they pull up to the Smuggler’s Rest and he remembers that they have to be a couple in front of Celeste, and then stay in that room, with the one enormous bed and he can’t help it, things get a little hesitant and strange between them.  It’s nothing he could call Sam out on, but it’s there, because it’s too close, too much of a reminder of what they used to have together.

Sam stays up late in the chair by the window, reading the last of the Pratchett book he was in the middle of on their drive.  Dean’s been in bed for a while now, but Sam can tell he isn’t asleep quite yet.  Sam hears him sigh and turn away. 

Before Dean turns away, he had been looking at Sam, soaking in the sight of his long, lean body sprawled in the huge overstuffed chair, relaxed and engaged with his book, a world away.  The new lines on his face relaxed so that he looks like the Sam from before.  Dean can almost picture him, how it used to be, how he’d tease Sam until he’d join him in bed and then they’d spend an hour immersed in each other before collapsing into an honest sleep.  But now, all he gets to do is look, and remember.  Dean falls asleep remembering those other nights.

Finally after he hears Dean’s breathing even out into the familiar ‘I’m really asleep’ pattern Sam pulls back the covers on his side of the bed and slips in as soundlessly as possible. Thinking about the bed in thirds, he makes sure he’s arranged on his third, and hopes that he sticks to it through the night.  Whenever they’ve ever had to share a bed it’s a guaranteed almost-magnetic attraction and one of them will wind up wrapped around the other.  It’s fifty-fifty on who has glommed onto whom in the morning.  As a last resort to actually fall asleep, Sam lets himself remember what it was like to hold his brother close.  It’s easier with the smell and sound of Dean so nearby, the heat of his body within touching distance.  He can almost dream it into being once again.

~!@~!@~!@

In the morning, Dean wakes up first, surprised to be comfortable and almost too warm.  Then he realizes why.  He’s completely wrapped up with his brother, Sam’s got his arm over him, and they are pressed up against each other completely.  He pushes down his first response which is to sneak out of bed and get into the bathroom before Sam knows what’s up.  But then Sam snuffles into his hair, this warmth spreads through Dean and he can’t bring himself to escape Sam’s arms.  Even though he knows he doesn’t deserve this or get this anymore, it’s still so much what he wants.  He’s a bad person, he knows this, to take this from Sam when he’s asleep.  It’s not right.  But he does it anyways, there’s been so few comforts since Purgatory, he takes what he needs.  And if that means finding that comfort now in a few stolen moments in his brother’s embrace, well so be it.

After a deliciously indeterminate time which could be as long as an hour or as short as two minutes, Dean can feel the moment Sam wakes up.  Sam’s whole body stiffens minutely, his breathing hitches slightly and the delicious weight and warmth is slowly removed.  Dean pretends to be asleep until the last second when he turns his head and smiles a sleepy conspiratorial grin at Sam, “Mornin’ sunshine.  Thought you’d never wake up.”

“Uh, yeah, sorry about being an octopus.”

Dean continues his grin, “Don’t worry, you didn’t do anything you shouldn’t have.”

Sam sits up and just looks at Dean, tilting his head slightly as if he’s trying to work out what Dean means by that cryptic comment.  But he’s too tired, so he shrugs a little and stands up, going into an immediate huge yawn and stretch.  “Imma hit the shower.”

“Don’t take too long, I can smell breakfast already.”  Dean really wants to say something like ‘let’s save time and shower together’ but he guessing that would be way too much, too soon based on Sam’s non-response.

As soon as Sam’s in the bathroom with the shower going, Dean rolls over onto his side of the bed, burying his face in the pillow his brother had used.  He can still feel the warmth from Sam’s body that’s heated the sheets, and the scent of Sam is strongest in the pillow.  After letting himself linger just that little bit longer in the Sam-shaped depression in the bed Dean finally talks himself into getting up.  There’s no point in wallowing and pining, that never does anyone any good, right?  He’s ready to jump in the shower the moment Sam comes out, the issue of the bed something he’s put out of his mind for the rest of the day.  There’s always tonight.

As Sam takes a little time in the shower he realizes he’s not just shocked by his brother’s response to being cuddled all night, he’s kind of warmed and excited.  Maybe it means nothing, just the easy familiarity with each other’s bodies that they’ve had their whole lives together.  But maybe Dean didn’t mind, because he wants that again.  The thought of that even being a possibility now seems like a remote pointless hope, but one that Sam’s mind refuses to let go of. He tries, but he can’t wash it away in the shower, Dean’s touch all along his body a precious reminder of what could be again.

Over breakfast down in the small dining room, served by an all too perky Celeste, they go over their plan for the day.  Sam’s researching in the town library for more local information on the owners of the mysterious house and property. 

“There’s got to be some kind of local legend about it.  C’mon, slightly visible house, don’t see that every day.” Sam says, as he watches Dean stuffing the second helping of eggs and home fries into his mouth. 

“Yeah, you’ll find something.  I’ll go see if the county has anything on the current owners since you couldn’t get it online.  Might be so old that it’s not digitized yet.” Dean says through his mouthful of breakfast. 

Sam pours himself another cup of coffee and watches his brother thoroughly enjoy his meal, that’s one nice thing about still being with Dean, the vicarious carnal enjoyment of food.  Dean just gets so into it, like he’s absorbing more than just the calories and nutrients.  Sam almost forgets to eat himself sometimes when he gets entranced by watching Dean display his more than healthy appetites.

Dean gets directions to the county seat of Stowe from Celeste, and he takes off for the day, Sam deciding to walk to the library.  He watches the Impala speed off and feels that pang of separation that he can never escape.  Sure it’s more efficient to split up on a job, but sometimes he wishes they could stick together on all of the aspects of a case.  But Dean’s a pain in the library anyways, Sam laughs to himself as he approaches the small house that houses the town library.  Just picturing some of the antics Dean’s gotten up to when he gets bored in libraries is enough to make Sam actually smile.

After a few hours with only a few new facts coming to light, Sam takes off to head back to the B&B, as he’s walking through town he passes by a bakery and stops in, thinking to get something to share with Dean when he gets back.  A bell jingles as he opens the bottom half of a blue painted Dutch door.  There’s a heady aroma of just-baked bread and something sweet.  Behind the glass-front counter a friendly faced young woman looks up in surprise.  “Good morning!” She greets him.

Sam tries not to flinch at her sunny greeting, he’s usually so much better about this human interaction stuff, but sometimes he’s just not when he’s been buried in books for hours.  “Uh, good morning to you, can I get a bear-claw and a lemon scone?” 

“Sure thing.”  Susan, well that’s what her nametag says gets the two things out of the case, bags them up, and is over waiting at the register before Sam has even noticed she’s moving, “That’ll be $4.50, you just visiting?”

“Yeah, we’re staying a couple nights over at Smuggler’s Rest.” Sam answers, handing over a five.

“You and your wife?” Susan asks, cheeks flaming a little red.

Sam wonders why she’s embarrassed, it’s almost like Dean is with him, usually this is how women react to his brother’s presence. But then he realizes that it’s just him, she’s giving him this dreamy kind of stare, so he answers, “No, my uh, husband and me,” his stomach sinking as he goes for the easy answer.  Hoping that it doesn’t come back to haunt him.

Susan snaps her fingers and grins, “Shoot, can’t blame a girl for trying.”

“No worries.” Sam smiles back in return.

“Well, I hope you enjoy your stay.”

“Hey, you mind if I ask you a question?  You know anything about the Trelawny House?”

Susan’s face goes from previously embarrassed to a combination of concerned and spooked.  “Yeah, it’s . . . uh been there a long time.  No one lives there though.  Why?”

“We’re travel writers, and we’re doing a story on old houses to check out in the New England region, it was on our list of historic homes.  You ever been to see it?”

“Yeah, everyone in town goes there at least once.  It’s a strange kind of place though.  Not everyone sees it the same way.”

“How do you mean?” Sam asks, leaning on the counter.

“Well, this is going to sound really wacked, but some people don’t really see it, some see it partway, and the rest are going in and walking around.” Susan says, shaking her head a little at herself for actually saying this crazy stuff out loud.

“Doesn’t sound wacked at all.  We experienced exactly that last night.  My br -- husband saw it, no problem, and I didn’t at first, but then there it was.  What’s the story with it, you know?”

“Oh there’s all kinds of rumors of course, but no one can agree on exactly what it is.  We just know not to go there on the equinoxes.  Bad stuff happens then.  Otherwise, it’s just a big empty field or a big beautiful house that no one lives in.”

“What kind of bad stuff? Is that the people disappearing I read about?”

“Yeah, it doesn’t happen a lot, but the story goes, if you’re a couple that’s getting trouble for being in love and you’re there at midnight on the equinox, you’ll get taken to somewhere better.  So sometimes idiot high school kids try it, and uh, we don’t ever see them again.” Susan answers, voice getting quieter towards the end as if she’s thinking of those who’ve gone missing.

Sam tries to clarify, “Trouble for being in love, like parents not agreeing with who their kids are going with?”

“Yeah, or worse.  People getting kicked out of their parent’s house.  That happened to Tim Belloit last year.  His dad wasn’t down with him being in a relationship with Randy Musgraft.  Even though they’d been together for a year, and friends their whole lives.  His dad threw Tim out of the house.  He and Randy went to Trelawny later that month and no one has ever seen them again.  We all hoped they’d just taken off to Burlington or something.” Susan says, with a wistful tone.

“The police looking for them?” Sam asks in a gentle voice, he can tell that she misses these people.

Susan shakes her head, “No, not anymore.”

“Thanks for your help Susan.  I’m Sam by the way.” Sam extends his hand to shake.

Susan brightens up a little and shakes, “Nice to meet you Sam by the way. Glad I could help.”

Sam leaves, holding the white paper bag, and thinking on the story that Susan just shared with him.  This new information really fits in with what he found at the library confirming all the disappearances at the equinoxes.  He hopes that Dean’s got something to add at this point to round out the story.   They’ve got to stop more couples from disappearing, especially ones that are just not accepted by their families.  That’s a whole level of wrong on top of everything.  He knows about that, well he did.  Back when he was part of a couple.  The only one that ever knew was Bobby, and he was, well he wasn’t accepting, but as close as he could manage it.  He and Chuck were the only people they’ve ever known, that realized they were brothers as well as lovers.  Not that it’s an issue any more, or that they have many friends to worry about either.  Who knows what the few left they do have left, would think if he and Dean were to rekindle that past fire?

Sam’s phone rings as he’s halfway back to Smuggler’s Rest, he answers when he sees the letter ‘D’ on the display, “Hey.”

“I found the owner. Coming to pick you up, wanna get something for lunch and then go find her?” Dean asks.

“Sounds good, I got some info too.  I’ll be back at our place by then.”

“See you in twenty or so.”

_Our place? Why the hell did I say that?_   Sam chides himself.  Too much thinking about how it used to be, and what he still wishes for.   _No_ , Sam reminds himself, _they don’t have a place_.  Not even the Men of Letters bunker anymore, thanks to the damn angels.  It was such a tease for them to have had it for that little while, a tiny slice of normal just to whet the appetite only to be snatched away.  Only home they’ve really ever had is the Impala really.  He used to think that it was the driver of the Impala that was truly his home, but that’s all so uncertain now.

After the short walk back to Smuggler’s Rest from the library, Sam sits down in the chair by the window and writes up his notes.  He looks up a few things in his digitized lore books to figure out what sort of spell or creature could cause this house to snatch up rejected couples.  There’s not too many things left on Earth that could pull that off, possibly a really powerful spirit, but then there’d be bodies, like in that case they’d worked with Annie’s ghost.  

More likely is the Fae, both he and Dean hadn’t thought about the Fae all that much in the last couple years.  But now that he’s examining possible remaining foes, it would be pretty unlikely that the Fae would have been affected by the closing of all the Gates.  They’ve only encountered faeries twice in their hunting careers, last time was with Charlie.  And that had been a faerie under the control of a human.  Sam’s deep in thought in the chair, staring out the window at the tree-line on the mountains when Dean finally comes back.

“Hey. Snap out of it. Let’s go, I’m hungry.”

“Yeah, uh, got you this earlier.”  Sam holds out the bag with the bear claw.

Dean snatches it and his eyes go goofy wide, most of the bear claw is in Dean’s mouth by the time he’s mumbling, “Thanks Sammy.”

Sam just laughs, hoping the crumbs and flakes of sugar glaze aren’t too much for Celeste to clean up and heads out the door, notebook in hand, not letting himself get used to hearing his nickname out of Dean’s crumb-filled mouth.  “Let’s get sandwiches, saw a place down the street.  So where’d you have to go?”

“Morristown, county offices are there, about 20 minutes away.  This place close? I’m starving.”

Sam laughs, “Even after that bear claw?  Yeah, it’s like two blocks, walk it with me, I think you’ll make it.”

“What is this Healthy Sam Time again?”

Sam shrugs, “No, not really.  Just wanted to walk, been sitting a lot today.  And it’s nice out.”

As they pass by the bakery, Susan sees them, waves and smiles at Sam, quickly coming to the door to poke her head out.  “Hi Sam, this must be your husband.”

“Yeah, uh, hi again Susan, this is Dean.”

“Nice to meet you Dean.  Hope you two enjoyed those treats today.” Susan winks at him.

“That was the best bear claw I’ve had in ages, thanks.” Dean says, trying to keep smiling although he wants to punch Sam at this point because he didn’t warn him that he’d spread their husband story around town, and she’s being awfully flirty anyways. So now he’s jealous and mad about their cover story, great.

“Hey Susan, Is the deli any good?” Sam asks, knowing that he’s got about 3.8 seconds left before Dean explodes because he didn’t give Dean a heads up about telling Susan they’re married.

“Oh yeah, best sandwiches in town, oughta be, they use my bread.” Susan says proudly.

“Thanks!” They say in unison walking away together like the happy married couple they’re supposed to be.

Sam hurries Dean along with a hand on the small of his back, hoping they get out of Susan’s earshot before Dean unloads on him.

“Who’s that Sam?” Dean says through gritted teeth, trying valiantly to get himself under control.

“Uh…Susan, she’s just the baker, got a lot of info out of her earlier.”

“And why does she think I’m your husband?”

“Just came up in conversation, it’s our cover story, remember, you’re the one that started it?” Sam says in a huff, because he doesn’t get why Dean’s so mad about this, it was his idea.

“She coming on to you?” Dean teases, though he knows of course he’s doing it to hide the sudden spike of jealousy which he has no business feeling.

Sam bristles a little at the teasing, even though he’s wondering about his brother’s jealous questions, “Yeah.  Sorry about that.  Thought it fit with our story with Celeste. Sorry I didn’t give you a heads up.”

And that’s one sorry too many for Dean, so he throws Sam a bone, “That’s alright, it’s legal here in Vermont right?  Gay marriage?” He holds the deli door open so Sam can walk through.

“Uh huh, has been for a while.” Sam answers as they walk up to the counter, looking at Dean as closely as he can out of the corner of his eye , confused as anything about why his brother is suddenly asking for that particular information.

“Good cover then I guess.  So what’d you find out?” Dean asks, pointedly changing the subject.

Sam smiles and lets that hot button topic go and answers, “That the town knows about the house not always being visible, and that the couples going missing are said to be ones that are being rejected by their families.”

“Huh, what do you think is causing it?” Dean asks.

“Well, there’s not much left it could be.  Vengeful spirit or maybe Fae?  Not sure yet.” Sam suggests.

Dean whistles lowly, “Damn, hope it’s not Fae.”

They order their sandwiches, pay, and wait on stools at the counter.


	2. Chapter 2

“So you said you found the owner of the house?” Sam asks, picking up the conversation.

“Yeah, Meredith Trelawny.  She still has an address in town, just not at the actual house.”

“These sandwiches look like they’re going to be really good, want to get them to go and eat across the street?”  Sam points out the deli window at the town square park.

“Sure why not, picnic style it is.” Dean says as he picks up their lunch and heads out the door.

“So not a picnic Dean.” Sam says, trailing Dean out the door.

“We’re eating outside, so it totally counts as a picnic.” Dean shrugs.

“Where’s the blanket, and the basket and the wine?” Sam asks, sounding so petulant even to his own ears that he almost winces.

“What the hell kind of picnics you been on Sammy? Wine?”

“Sorry, just thinking too much.” Sam says softly, hit with memories he’s really tried not to dwell on. He chooses a semi-shady spot under a tree at the edge of the park, sitting down on the grass, folding his long legs under him gracefully.

Sitting down next to Sam and digging through the bag for their sandwiches, Dean passes Sam his, “What, this an Amelia thing?” Dean asks as gently as he can, even after all this time, it’s still a touchy subject for both of them.

“Yeah.  We had picnics sometimes, with our dog, she even bought me a birthday cake one time.  But yeah, we always had wine.” Sam answers, looking off into the middle distance at his memories.

Dean sees a chance to connect their fleeting domestic experiences, and offers, “Lisa did that too, a few times.  Especially when Ben was at baseball.  No wine though, just beer.”

Sam smiles at hearing Dean’s admission, it’s nice knowing that they both have a happy memory in common like that. About something so mundane and normal, even though it’s with someone else it’s a good thing, “We’ve got sandwiches and root beer, does that count?”

“Guess we’ll have to make do for now.” Dean says, smiling back at his brother, clinking the top of his root beer bottle to Sam’s.

They eat in companionable silence for a while.  Comfortable with their makeshift picnic, just enough time to enjoy the early afternoon sun.  “It’s nice here, um . . . this town I mean.” Sam says after a while.

“Yeah, the forest and stuff are pretty great.  Smells good.  Bet it’s a bitch in winter though.”

“So you said you found where the owner of the house lives, what was her name?” Sam asks through a mouthful of chicken salad sandwich.

Dean grins at him through his own mouthful, happy to see Sam enjoying his food so much that he’s not fussing about table manners for once, “Trelawny, Meredith Trelawny.  Here’s the address where she lives, can you look it up on your phone so we don’t have to ask anyone for directions?”

Sam puts his drink down on the ground and pulls out his smartphone.  “See these things are pretty handy.”

“I know, I know, I’ll get one next time I get a new phone, okay?” Dean shoves his shoulder into Sam’s and growls a little at being nagged.

“Sure you will, I’ll believe it when I see it.  Looks like the place is a few miles out of town, guess we’ll have to drive.” Sam says, sounding a little down about the idea of having to drive.

Dean doesn’t miss it, that Sam seems to not want to drive to their next destination, “What, you like walking around this little town making friends with the baker and stuff?”

“Sure, why not?  The people are nice here so far.  The librarian even gave me a recipe for zucchini bread.”

“When the heck are you gonna ever make zucchini bread?” Dean asks, laughing a little at the idea of Sam baking anything.

“I don’t know, but it was nice of her, a neighborly kind of thing, makes me want to help this town even more you know?”

Dean just shakes his head at the idea of his brother cooking zucchini bread, or being anyone’s neighbor, “Yeah I get it.  You done?”

Sam pops the last big bite of sandwich in his mouth and swigs down the remainder of his root beer.  Dean can’t take his eyes off Sam’s throat stretched out and working, the Adam’s apple bobbing up and down is hypnotizing for some reason.  He’s caught in remembering what Sam looks like when he’s swallowing him down so perfectly.

“Dean? Dean?”  Dean snaps out of it as Sam’s repeating his name.  He tries to recover though by finishing his own drink.  Sam looks at him curiously and then with a strange, interested, intense look.  They both pack up and leave without another word spoken.

As they walk past the bakery, Susan waves again, but doesn’t come out to talk, just goes back to dusting sugar over the tray of cookies.

“Want a cookie for dessert Sammy?” Dean asks teasingly, “I think your girlfriend just made some.”

“Shut up Dean, my husband’s on a diet and I need to be supportive.” Sam says with a smirk.

Dean’s left spluttering and response-less, the idea of him being on a diet, much less Sam’s husband, overloads his mental processes.  Sam just grins seeing how thoroughly he’s flummoxed his brother.

The drive to Cambridge Manor, the multi-care level retirement home medical facility that Meredith Trelawny lives in now takes about fifteen minutes.  The brothers don’t talk, just listen to the radio. Dean sees that Sam’s off in his own mind, probably imagining living in a nice town just like this one. He wonders for the thousandth time if a place like this will be the place where Sam finally puts his foot down and gets out for good.  He could see Sam living here, maybe running a business in the town, something like that.  Getting together with Susan the baker, she seemed pretty into Sam, once they clear up the gay marriage issue.  That should be easy to play off as a joke, tell her they were just looking for the “gay discounts” they’d read about as poor travelers. Sam would probably be happy here, that would be good. She could help him with the zucchini bread issue.

“You sure are quiet.” Sam says when he’s done thinking and he’s wondering if Dean’s thinking about the same stuff. Finally his curiosity gets the best of him. 

“Just thinking about this town, you seem to fit in pretty well.”

Sam nods, “Yeah, I guess so.  Just nice to be in a good place for once.  There’s something about these little towns.  Sometimes they just have a good feeling about them.”

“Well, I wish you could stay somewhere like this.  I mean if you wanted to.” Dean says.

“What about hunting?” Sam asks, looking over at Dean and trying to figure out what he’s really talking about.

“Seems like that’s slowing down a lot lately.” Dean observes.

“True. It’s just hard to think about doing anything else.  We’ve been doing this for so long. Family business and all that.” Sam says.

“I know, but maybe quitting while you’re ahead would be the smart move.” Dean responds a little more emphatically this time.

“Wait a minute.  Quitting while **_I’m_** ahead? What about you?  Thought **_we_** were in this all the way together.  Isn’t that what we decided not too long ago?” Sam asks a little heatedly, because the frustration with Dean pulling this jazz over and over is starting to get to him.  He’s been thinking this was a done deal between them, but Dean’s always trying to push him away, like a mother bird pushing her fledgling out of the nest.

“Yeah I know Sammy, just want you to be happy if you can, safe.” Dean says quietly, sounding a little defeated.

“Well, I want that for you too Dean.  Kinda goes together you know?  Besides, wasn’t that the end game we were hoping for with closing the Gates?” Sam asks, a little desperate for closure on this subject, because he can’t take it if Dean just wants to leave him behind again.

Dean just nods, kind of wishing he hadn’t even started this conversation, because there’s so much more to it than just wanting Sam to be out of the hunting life and safe somewhere, there’s that whole bit that he can’t talk about. Where he’s there **_with_** Sam, together, and safe.  But that’s a bigger conversation, and not one he’s ready for, and definitely not in the middle of a case like this.  But bringing it up like this, even a little bit is maybe a good thing, to get Sam thinking about it.  He hears Sam’s frustrated huff as they silently get out of the car and cringes a little.

“We’d like to see Meredith Trelawny.” Sam says at the front reception desk.

The young, blonde, very pretty receptionist looks them both up and down, “Oh, well, let me see if you’re on the list.  Name please?”

“Sam and Dean Winchester.  We probably won’t be on any list.  We’re hoping to be able to interview Mrs. Trelawny for an article we’re writing, about historic homes.”

“First of all, it is not **Mrs.** Trelawny, as she never married.  And if you are unknown to her, then you’ll have to go through Mrs. Callahan first to be cleared.  She keeps track of Meredith’s condition.  She’s in and out these days quite a lot.”

As the receptionist calls Mrs. Callahan, Sam whispers to Dean, “Hope we can convince Mrs. Callahan to give us a chance. What do you think she meant about being in and out, like Alzheimer’s or something?”

“With our luck yeah, and she won’t remember a thing about the house but we’ll get to hear all about playing shuffleboard on the Titanic or something.”

”I don’t think she’s quite that old Dean.” Sam chides.

“Never married, but she has the name of the house, she must have been the daughter and inherited it?”’ Dean guesses.

“Can you imagine inheriting a house that not everyone can see? I wonder if it’s comfortable to live in, I mean it sure looked awesome inside from what I saw.  Well kept up too.  Someone’s been taking care of it while she’s in this place.” Sam says quietly.

“Yeah, the resident caretaker or gardener might be our next step if Meredith doesn’t remember anything. There must be at least someone that’s taking care of the place for it to look so perfect.”

They hear a bell ringing sound, like a series of them sounding at once. A compact white-haired woman approaches them, “You must be the gentlemen that were asking after Meredith.  I’m afraid she is not in any state to talk to strangers.  I’m sure you will understand.” Mrs. Callahan says, bowing slightly and expecting Sam and Dean to just give up and leave.

“Oh, we’re so sorry to hear she isn’t well today, are you sure a conversation about her house wouldn’t be a good diversion?” Sam asks, hoping it doesn’t come off as too much like begging.  Dean raises his eyebrows in silent praise that he’s turned the phrase well, hopefully Mrs. Callahan will take the bait.

Mrs. Callahan turns her head slightly to the side in a considering gesture that’s all too reminiscent of Castiel, “Yes, well, I suppose it is worth checking. I can go speak with her, just hold on one moment.” Mrs. Callahan disappears though one of the doors and the bell sound rings again.  Like she has to pass through a bead curtain made of bells instead of beads. 

The bell ringing sound makes everything go away for Sam and Dean. Just for a little while it’s like they’re muffled from the world, in some sort of slow-time, they can see everyone moving around them in the busy lobby, the receptionist is making calls, an orderly pushes an old man gesturing wildly with his cane out the front doors, the mailman drops by and lays a pile of mail on the counter.  They turn to each other with widening eyes in what feels like slow-motion. Sam feels something boiling up in him, deep inside, his guts churning with all the things he needs to say to Dean, all the things he’s been holding back, he feels like he’s going to explode if he doesn’t say them all right now.

Dean sees the distress on Sam’s face and slowly takes his hand, hoping to comfort him, not sure why they’re stuck like this, not a clue how to get them out of it.  He can tell that Sam’s trying to communicate something to him without words and Dean tries valiantly to tune in, but the interference static from their stuck state is too much to get past.  Sam looks so frustrated, so Dean squeezes his hand again, smiling from deep inside himself where he’s been keeping all the feelings for Sam stored up. And smiling **_that_** smile from **_that_** place makes him want to be able to spill it all, right here in this old folk’s home lobby, right into Sam’s lap, all the want and desire and love and fear and pain and loss, all of it.  He just wants to get it out.

Sam sees the matching distress on Dean’s face and tries to smile back at him, squeezes his hand gently, and they both relax.  Some kind of volcanic eruption has been postponed between them.  The bell ringing sounds again and everything clears.  They release each other’s hands a little reluctantly and shake their heads to clear them.  Feeling so flushed and kind of happy inside, like they had a big emotional talk that went well without any words being exchanged.

Mrs. Callahan comes back soon after, looking just as flushed and happy as they do, and she says to no one in particular, “I needed that.  Thanks.” 

Dean shrugs at Sam, because there’s no way they can ask her what the hell just happened without compromising their attempt to get the rest of the story and meet Ms. Trelawny. “Hey we know how that goes.  So, what’s the scoop with Ms. Trelawny?” Dean asks, still touching Sam a whole lot more than he should, hand lingering on his shoulder. 

“Well you are in luck gentlemen, she is having one of her good afternoons but I will warn you now, she is not likely to last long so do get right to the point when you are talking to her. Come along with me, I will take you to her.”

Sam and Dean get up and follow Mrs. Callahan’s bobbing white curly hair as she leads them through twisting corridors, finally stopping at room 118.  “Here we are gentlemen.  So, to review, speak clearly, a little loudly and get to the point, I will stay in the room just in case she happens to get upset.”

The door swings open slowly and they see her sitting in an easy chair by the window, staring out at the flower garden.  She’s got long, flowing red hair with streaks of gray at the temples, and she’s dressed all in white.  Some kind of floaty gauzy thing with a lot of layers.  Hanging low on her neck is a silver charm holder necklace with a bristle of charms hanging off of it.  Her face is lined lightly with wrinkles but her hands have only a few.  It’s hard to tell how old she really is.  There’s a light in her green eyes though, a deep-set twinkle of recognition when she sees them, “Oh it’s you two. I have been waiting for so long.  Come in, come in, and please do sit down.  Thank you Maggie my dear, you may leave us.”

Mrs. Callahan motions to them to sit on the small couch opposite Ms. Trelawny’s chair, “I will be just outside if you need me.” She says to all three of them and leaves, quietly closing the door. 

Sam and Dean arrange themselves on the grey upholstered couch, which is small enough that they’re pressed up against one another from their knees to their shoulders.  It’s okay though, they lean a little into each other in silent communication that this is going to be okay, just a conversation with a nice old lady. Both still a little unbalanced from what happened out in the lobby a few minutes ago.

“So the brothers Sam and Dean Winchester, it is very nice to finally get to meet you in person. As I said I’ve been expecting you.  Meredith Trelawny, please do call me Meredith.”  She extends one long-fingered hand out to shake both of their hands, smiling at their surprise.

“Nice to meet you ma’am, uh Meredith.  Exactly how long you been expecting us?” Dean asks.

“Well let me think a moment, I suppose that I have been expecting you since the time I first asked the question about what would happen to my house.  It was well before I came to live in this place.   I did not understand the answer all those many years ago, yet here you are, as promised.” Meredith answers.

“Who did you ask the question of?” Sam asks, remembering Mrs. Callahan’s advice to get right to the point.

“Well Sam, the answer to that question is at the end of a very long story. I am not sure that you would want to hear the whole thing today. Suffice it to say for now, that I was told that you two would be the ones to determine what would happen to my house.  Whether it would stay in its current in-between state or become fully part of the human realm once again.”

“That’s why we’re here, we’re investigating the disappearances of many couples over the years. Mostly teenagers. Do you know anything about that Meredith?” asks Dean.

“Yes, I do. I’m told that I tend to ramble on, so if I seem to get off track, please just speak up and say something to me.  When I was a young girl, my father built Trelawny, and I grew up there.  It was a wonderful place to be a child, the gardens alone were the most special place I’d ever known.  But the beauty and specialness of the place came at a cost, one that was much too high.  My father was a theosophist.  He believed that faeries were something evolving along with but separate from humans.”

“Did your father study anything else besides theosophy, magic, dark arts, that sort of thing?” Sam interrupts.

“Yes Sam, he studied many subjects such as those.  Fairly soon after we moved in to our house, he discovered that there was a faery inhabiting the hill that he’d built our house on, there are many caves and such in these hills, that’s why the smugglers liked this place.”

“Oh right, Smuggler’s Notch.  But your dad wasn’t a smuggler though?” Dean asks.

“Oh no, he was from a wealthy mining family, that’s why he was dabbling in this theosophy business, he had a lot of idle time.  After a few years of study, he finally worked out how to summon the faery to reveal himself.  I was about thirteen at the time he first appeared to us.  But from the moment I first saw him, it felt like I’d known him my whole life.”  Meredith’s voice drifts off, getting quieter and she stares dreamily out the window. 

Sam and Dean elbow each other and then Sam asks, “Meredith, what did he look like when you first met him, the faery?”

“Oh, well, he was lovely of course, all faeries are as you know.  At least that is how they appear to humans.  And well, he said he thought I was lovely too, and he kept returning to me, secretly.  He did not want to deal with my father at all, he felt that my father was too intrusive, he did not trust him.  I would meet him at the edge of the property everyday as I came home from school.  Sometimes he would take me to his cave, other times he’d show me secret places in the gardens.  It did not take much time for us to fall in love, hard and for good.  I could not stand the times that I was not with him, and my father eventually realized something was going on.  He was not very pleased to say the least.  Even though he was a theosophist who valued the faeries as another life form here on Earth with us, ‘no daughter of mine will be involved with one of them.’”  Meredith finishes with an unhappy sigh.

“That must have been really hard Meredith, loving someone your father doesn’t approve of is hard at any age, much less a fairy.” Sam offers, with true sympathy in his voice.

“If my mother had still been alive, perhaps she would have managed to talk him around.  But on my own, I could not get through to him.  My father used his researches into the dark arts to find and cast a spell to keep us apart forever.  In response, as his last act before leaving, my lord faerie cast a curse upon my father’s house in response.  The curse is all wrapped up in love denied.  I have accepted that I would never get to be with the one I loved, but I have always wanted to fix the house somehow, to get rid of the Fae curse, stop the disappearances and let some couple who would appreciate it have it.”

“Do you remember anything about either the spell or the curse Meredith? Any details at all might be helpful for us to figure this out.” Dean asks.

“Yes, yes of course.   I wrote it all down, what my father did, and what I saw my faery do.  It is hidden back at the house though along with everything else.” Meredith says a little wistfully, as if she’s remembering all that she’s left behind.

“Is it someplace we can find it easily?” Dean asks, knowing already that the answer will be no.

“Of course not, it’s hidden so well even my faerie lord could never find it.”

“Could you give us some clues so we have a chance?” Sam prods, hoping that she’ll remember something that will help.

“You will only be able to spy it under a clear new moon, the best way is to circle the house nine times widdershins, then go in through the front door, if you’re able to **_See_** then the path will be apparent to you. Oh, that reminds me.  Please give me your hand.” Meredith extends a hand towards Sam.

Sam leans forward and enfolds her small hand in his large paw, looking over at her with a little trepidation. But the stronger feeling is that deep sympathy that comes from knowing her kind of heartache for what seems like his whole life.

“Mohit told me that I could pass on the ability to see Faerie things by touching someone with that intention.  So, Sam, I now declare you able to see all things Faerie.  I do hope that works dear.” Meredith lets go of Sam’s hand and pats him softly on the cheek.

“Is Mohit the name of your Faerie lord?” asks Sam gently.

“Yes, he is what the Cherokee called Nunnehi, very similar to the English idea of elves.  They were known as ‘The People Who Live Anywhere and Forever.’  They were honored and revered for helping the Cherokee in times of trouble and transporting them to safer realms. Mohit said he moved up here from Cherokee country in the Appalachians back in the late 1700’s and lived in the caves in the hill my father built Trelawny on.” Meredith pauses and coughs lightly, holds up her hand as if stopping any questions, and sips from a glass of water on the table next to her.  She replaces the glass, lowers her hand and begins speaking again, “Mohit was all on his own here, not part of any court or group.  There was some reason for his separateness but he never told me. His name meant ‘ensnarled by beauty.’  He said that was why we were meant to be.”

“I can see what he meant.” Dean says smiling with the smile he uses to tell any woman he appreciates her beauty.

“He did warn me about you Dean. When Mohit answered my question about the house and told me of you and Sam, he said that you were a lover as well as a warrior.”

“Sounds about right.” Dean laughs, the idea of some faery lord pegging him so accurately years ago is pretty funny.

“Thank you for your help Meredith.  We’ll let you know what we find out, okay?” Sam says with real honesty.

“You do that Sam.” She leans forward and pats Sam’s knee gently.  She turns to Dean, “And you make sure you take care of him Dean, hold on tightly.” Meredith says, patting Dean’s hand lightly as they get up to leave.

Dean looks down into her twinkling green eyes, “I always do Meredith, thanks.”

As they walk out Dean has his hand on the small of Sam’s lower back, guiding him back to the car as Sam still seems a little out of it.  _Hopefully he’s just thinking about all the stuff Meredith just laid on them and it doesn’t have to do with any Faerie interference._ Dean thinks, always jumping into big brother protective mode.

_That slight look at the volcano was a little bit much, if I’m that volatile underneath, who knows what I might actually do at some point._   Sam thinks to himself, relieved that Dean’s still touching him so much. You can only be driven crazy so many times without it sticking around more and more each time.  This crazy isn’t sloughing off though, it’s making a home in Sam, and that’s what he sees in this town, a place to stop for a rest and see if he can gather himself back together, to make it worthwhile for Dean to take care of him. If he falls apart now, then it will mean all the sacrifice of closing the Gates was for nothing.  There’s not a thing stopping him from that at this point.

“So . . . uh, what do you think that was back there? When we were waiting for Mrs. Callahan. I heard this bell thing and then everything went weird. You felt it too right?” Dean asks as he starts the Impala, looking at Sam’s face closely to see if he’ll admit to the experience or try to deny it.

“Yeah, I did, and it’s making me think the Fae are even more involved you know?  It seemed like Mrs. Callahan was affected too though, when she came back. Maybe this Mohit guy never left Meredith alone once they had contact with her?” Sam answers, skirting the whole issue that he knows Dean was really referring to, that volcano of feelings that’s sitting there simmering between them.

Dean persists though, because he’s remembering how good he felt after that strange spell, like they’d had a good talk and figured things out.  It was somehow really important, to both of them and his gut is telling him they shouldn’t just disregard it, “It seemed like you had something to say to me, when we were in that state, do you remember what it was?”

Sam looks at him closely for a long uncomfortable moment, “Yeah I do, but this isn’t the time for it, after we’re done with the case, okay? I promise. And you looked like you had something to say to me.” Sam says, feeling relieved to be admitting this to his brother.

“Yeah, pretty much same here, but like you said after the case. Both of us spill. Alright little brother? I’m holding you to that.” Dean jabs a pointy finger at him, and Sam swats at it. “Now what did she say about a new moon, can you look up the phase on that phone of yours?”

Sam pulls out his smartphone and has the answer in just a few seconds, “Yeah, we’re in luck, tonight’s the last night it’s considered new moon. What do you want to do until the moon’s up?”

“How about a nap? Since we’re going to be prowling around at midnight and all.  We can get some dinner, and then head back out to Meredith’s house.”

“Sounds good to me, I’m beat.  Didn’t sleep very well last night.” Sam says.

“Bed too soft?” Dean asks, sounding a little concerned.

“Something like that.” Sam answers, not wanting to fess up to the real reason, which was that he’d lain awake most of the night wishing that things were like they used to be and that he could just hold Dean without worrying about his reaction.

~!@~!@~!@

“Welcome back, you two feel like a little wine and cheese?” Celeste greets them from the porch of Smuggler’s Rest, putting down her quilting.

“Sure, why not. Our nap can wait a little bit right Sam?”

“Haven’t had wine in a while, but okay.” Sam answers.

“Make yourselves comfortable, I’ll be right back with everything.” Celeste says over her shoulder as she strides back into the kitchen.  Sam and Dean seat themselves on the small loveseat again.

Sam thinks to himself _what is it about Vermont and all the teeny couches anyways?_

Dean doesn’t seem to notice or care, being snugged up next to Sam is fine by him.

“So are you two having fun looking around our fair city?” Celeste asks as she bustles back towards them with a tray from the kitchen.

‘Yes, so far Sam’s found the bakery and we enjoyed our dinner last night very much.”

“Oh good, I’m so glad to hear it.  So tell me, how did your trip out to Trelawny go?” Celeste asks, obviously curious to see what sort of experience these out-of-towners had.

“It was beautiful, but hard to photograph, we’ll have to go back and catch it at a different time of day.” Dean answers.

“Sometimes people say they can’t see it at all.  I have to admit, it gives me the creeps.” Celeste offers.

“Yeah, I thought that for a second myself.  But then Dean described something and I was able to see it, like it came into focus.  Very strange.  We might have to turn this story into haunted houses or something.” Sam jokes.

“There’s a big tourism business for that sort of thing I’ve heard.  Maybe we’d get more visitors to Smuggler’s Notch during the summertime.” Celeste muses, pouring them both a glass of wine.

“You’re mostly full up during the winter I bet.” Dean says, leaning forward to take the wineglasses and handing one to Sam.

“Yes, the skiers definitely keep us in the black, otherwise there wouldn’t be much of a business up here this far.  We’re pretty much well off the beaten path and all that.” Celeste answers, then takes a sip of her own wine.

“How much snow do you get in town as opposed to up on the slopes?” Sam asks.

“Oh in the deepest part of winter, maybe twenty inches or so.  Not that bad compared to some places I suppose.  The summers are warm but not hot, so I like it for that.” Celeste says, nibbling on a cracker topped with a small slice of cheese.

“Sounds good to me, got enough of the warm humidity when we were in the south.” Sam comments, and finishes his wine, thinking of their time in Georgia sweltering in the summer heat as teenagers.

“Yeah or the dry heat when we were in the southwest.  This was good wine, thanks Celeste.  Think we’ll head up, you ready Sammy?” Asks Dean, standing up and offering Sam a hand.

Sam thrills a little to hear his nickname come rolling out of Dean’s mouth, he’s missed it although he’d never admit it willingly to anyone in a million years.  It always means that Dean’s thinking of him fondly instead of being resigned to carting him around everywhere out of obligation. Sam guesses he’s doing something right for once, or it’s just a part of Dean play-acting at being a couple. But maybe it’s just the effect of the wine.  “Yeah, thanks Celeste, for the cheese too, really is something to that Vermont cheddar name after all.”

“Cave-aged and don’t you forget it!” Celeste laughs as they head up the stairs.

Dean flops down onto his side of the bed after toeing off his boots, “I could get real used to this life Sammy. Wine and cheese and afternoon naps.”

“Pretty decadent for us, I like it though, once in a while it’s good to do things a little differently.”  Sam carefully hangs up his jacket and stows his boots under it.  He stands at the bay window for a while looking out at the tree line and the marks on the mountain that show where the ski paths are in winter.

Dean watches him for a long time, marveling at the unconscious grace he holds his height with, all that power contained, and so beautiful, finally he asks, “Whatcha thinking about Sammy?”

Sam shrugs, his first response is to not answer at all, but then he remembers the barely contained volcano of feelings that he just experienced, “Just all the stuff Meredith told us.  I mean think how hard it must have been to be in love with someone that you couldn’t be with. To be so young, as well. And to know your father disapproved.  I . . . can sympathize, I guess.”

“That how it was for you?” Dean asks with a directness that truly surprises Sam.

Sam looks at him carefully from across the room, trying to see if he really wants an answer or not, and decides to give him an unmistakably clear one, “Yeah, of course it was. You know that.”

Dean nods at him, acknowledging the response, knowing that it was probably as hard for Sam to admit, as it was for him to ask, “Yeah I do, also ripped from the headlines of my personal experience dude.  Remember we’re still having that talk after this case.” He stretches both arms up wide and yawns hugely, then arranges himself on the bed. “Wake me up in no more than two hours.”

Sam walks across the room and grabs his phone out of his coat pocket, “I’ll set an alarm on my phone.”

“You love that thing more than your laptop.” Dean mumbles at him with his eyes closed and a small smile on his face.

“Shut up Dean.” Sam says, staring at those beautiful lips smiling that beautiful smile.

Sam lies down on his third of the bed, facing away from Dean, remembering back to last night.  He tells himself as he drifts off into a kind of _why am I so happy to be taking a nap_ state that he’s staying there, on his third, not winding up tangled around Dean again.

Dean doesn’t fall asleep for a while, he lies still, just watching Sam’s back expand and contract with his slowing breathing. Wishing more than anything that he could touch him, just once, but he can’t. He keeps arguing with himself, _it would make it all better somehow if I could just touch him_.  So he does, slowly and whisper soft, just the barest hint of contact between his outstretched hand and the middle of Sam’s back.  Sam doesn’t wake up but seems to settle into his hand with a little happy sigh.  Like he wanted it and didn’t know it. 

Dean smiles to himself that he’s still got the soothing Sam touch he’s always had, ever since they were little kids scared out of their minds in a ratty hotel room.  If Dad could only see them now he thinks to himself.  In a bed and breakfast, taking a nap in the afternoon together.  _Aww, what the old man doesn’t know can’t hurt him._  He never would have understood that the way their lives went, this is all they were left with.  And if Dean could go back and do things differently, he’d make all the same choices.  Being with Sam in whatever fashion, is worth everything to him.  Always has been, always will be. 

Sure they’re disconnected right now.  But maybe it’s working itself out, if this little spell at the nursing home earlier this afternoon is any indication.  If there’s one thing Dean knows, it’s that when Sam says he needs to talk to him about something, it’s 100% guaranteed to be about their “relationship”. Dean falls into a deep dreamless sleep with the thought that hopefully it’s something good, that Sammy’s made some decision or had some insight about them thanks to the old woman with the teenage fairy romance.


	3. Chapter 3

They awaken to the beeping of the phone alarm, once again completely wrapped up together.  This time since they’re both awake at the same time, there’s no hiding it or pretending.  Dean just squeezes Sam tightly everywhere he’s touching him briefly, smiles and then rolls away off the bed. Getting up quickly and stretching his arms out wide.  “Now that was a good nap.”

“Yeah, I think I needed that.” Sam agrees, smiling at him as he stretches in the bed lazily like the world’s biggest housecat.

“So it’s almost dinner time, did you spot a place today in town that you want to check out?” Dean asks.

“Yeah, it’s pretty near that deli we went to today.  Wanna walk it?”

“Sure, seems like a nice night.  Like Celeste said, we’re still early for snow.”

They wash up and walk the few short blocks over, bumping elbows companionably, talking about everything and nothing.  “Maybe we’ll see your girlfriend.” Dean teases as they near the bakery.

“Shut up Dean, as my husband I don’t think you should be teasing me about that.” Sam says primly, holding it in for about five seconds before he busts up laughing at Dean’s surprised face.  Dean joins him with a loud chuckle, because he can’t help it, being around a giggling Sam is about the best thing he’s got in his life right now.  Might as well enjoy it.

“You don’t mind having Indian right?” Sam asks after they’re both done laughing.

“Naw, long as there’s some meat in it, I’m good.  You can get one of those vegetable curries you like though.”

Sam smiles because Dean remembers, and isn’t teasing him about it for once.  Once they’re in the restaurant, he gets Dean to try some of the vegetable samosas, promising they’re close to French fries.

“Hey these things aren’t half bad.  I like this dip stuff too.”

“I won’t tell you what it’s made out of then.” Sam says, grinning at his brother admitting he actually likes something that’s good for him.

“What?  I can tell it’s made outta some green stuff.  It tastes good, I don’t care.” Dean protests.

“Mint, spinach and yogurt.”

“Huh, go figure.” Dean dips another samosa in the bowl scooping up the rest of the yogurt dip, “Thanks for making me try it Sammy.”

Again, Sam can’t help his reaction to the nick name.  It’s like he’s been starved for it, the easy affection and familiarity that it represents.  “Uh . . . You’re welcome, glad you’re feeling adventurous today.”

“Hey we met a woman that had an affair with a fairy this afternoon, this is small potatoes compared to that.” Dean answers through his final mouthful of samosas.

“True, I wonder if we should bring an offering of some to-go food from here for Mohit, might be a good idea for tonight.” Sam muses.

“Couldn’t hurt, likely an Indian would like Indian food.” Dean says, wondering if Sam will take the PC bait or not.

“Dean, you know better, c’mon, not Indians, Native Americans.” Sam admonishes with a frown.

Dean grins because Sam fell for it yet again, “Whatever, well if he doesn’t want it, we can have it for a midnight snack.”

“Trust you to think of your stomach first Dean.”

“That’s not what I think of first Sammy.” Dean drops this truth bomb without thinking it through, his eyes flash up to meet Sam’s.

“Yeah I know.”  Sam salutes him with his half full glass of Kingfisher beer and a smile that tells Dean that he really does know what Dean thinks about first.

“So do we know much about these Native American elves?” Dean asks with an absurd emphasis on Native American.

“Not much, I found a few Cherokee legends about them, mostly how they danced with people, or appeared when they needed help, seem mostly positive, but there is the element of taking people to other realms which could be seen as a negative.”

“And that’s kind of what’s happening at the house right?” Dean asks, draining the rest of his beer.

“I guess, but maybe there’s some interaction between the spell Meredith’s father cast and the curse that Mohit put on the house.  That’s going to be the tricky part to figure out.  I’ve got some of the Men of Letters works on the Fae to check out before we go tonight.  I should have done that instead of taking a nap.”

“Well you obviously needed it.  Better to be well rested for tonight.”

“I know, I just like to study up before we go into a situation.”

“I get it Sammy, but it’s just as important that you’re at 100% backing me up.”

“Not like back when I was doing the trials the second time to close the Hell Gate huh?”

“Don’t remind me, that sucked balls.”

“Yeah no kidding.  I’m glad it wasn’t that hard on you for the Heaven gate. Especially when I hadn’t really recovered yet.”

“It all worked out, maybe not as we’d planned, but we got the job done.”  Dean salutes him with his mostly empty beer glass.  Sam clinks his glass and smiles.

“Damn right we did.” Sam agrees.

“I kinda like how boring it is now.” Dean observes, thinking about how hard it was when there were demons and monster and angels to contend with.

“Just ghosts and fairies left.  Pretty manageable yeah.”

“Never thought I’d like being bored.” Dean says, his face open and expressive with a mix of wonder, sadness and concern.

“Have you ever gotten the chance to be?” Sam asks.

“Naw, I guess not.  There was always something big hanging over our heads besides the job, and now that’s not there either.  It’s good though.  It’s all good.” Dean says reassuringly.

“Yeah, it was worth it. Not many people get to look back on their lives and say that, we’re pretty lucky that way.” Sam says, knowing it’s probably stating the obvious, but it needs to be said out loud at least once.

“There were a lot of times I sure as hell didn’t feel so lucky, but yeah, you’re right. Good job on us.  Not that anyone will ever know it, but we sure kicked some ass.” Dean agrees.

After a while where they don’t say anything, but just look at each other over the table, getting a little lost in each other’s eyes as their minds roam over their recent traumatic history.  Sam finally shakes his head as if to clear it and asks, “You want any dessert?”

“I don’t know, what’s dessert at an Indian place involve?”

“Well, usually fruit and yogurt, but I noticed a sign as we came in that said they had fresh berry pies from the bakery.” Sam says, hoping that Dean will like the idea.

“God I love how observant you are.”

“So you want to get one to go? You can eat some of it while I’m reading the Fae stuff before we head out to the house.”

“Sure, sounds good.  We can bring the left overs as our offering, how about that?”

Later that night, after Dean’s scarfed most of the pie and Sam’s read most of the Men of Letter’s relevant works on the Fae, they drive out to Trelawny under the sliver of new moon.  The cool late August air coming in the windows ruffles Sam’s hair and Dean feels this rush of nostalgic longing that he can’t ignore, and reaches over to smooth it down for him.  “Gotta get you a scrunchie or something dude.”

“Sure, as long as it’s leather.” Sam laughs.

“You’re on Buttercup, I’m gonna find you a leather one with Samantha tooled on it. How about that?”

“I’ll wear it proudly and tell everyone my husband bought it for me.” Sam retorts, barely stifling a giggle.

“That joke’s gonna wear itself out pretty soon.” Dean warns with one raised eyebrow.

“Strangely, I’m okay with that, but until then . . .”

“Whatever, let’s just get this done tonight okay?  So can you see the place this time?” Dean asks as they pull up near the giant tulip tree in the driveway.

“Wow, yeah, I sure can.  Whatever Meredith did when she touched me sure worked.” Sam says, sounding a little awed by the concrete appearance of the enormous house this time.

“What’d she say, go around the house nine times clockwise?” Dean asks.

“No she said widdershins, which is counter clockwise. It’s like what you do with a faerie ring, so you can see or hear them.”

“I’m so glad I brought my walking encyclopedia of weirdness.” Dean says, knowing how much it bugs Sam to be called that, but hoping that he realizes how much he appreciates Sam’s command of all the gory details of the things they deal with.

“Start walking buddy.” Sam says as he shoves Dean in the middle of the back as they start walking. “Hey it wasn’t me that serviced Oberon King of the Fairies.  I think you’d know way better than me Dean.”

“Thanks for that, really Sam, like I needed that reminder.” Dean says, shuddering a little at the vague recollection of something he’s glad he only has very sketchy memories of.

“I only touched that leprechaun dude a little when we were fighting so I don’t think I got the Faerie vision as much as you did. And that’s why I couldn’t see it as well as you at first.  But now that Meredith touched me, I can see you were absolutely right, it looks like a really beautiful old place.”

“Yeah it looks like the fairy curse or whatever kept it up in nice shape, almost like the weather couldn’t reach it.” Dean agrees.

They walk around the house the required nine times, enjoying the night air, the scent of the summer gardens while being on high-alert for anything coming at them.  Finally they’ve gone around enough revolutions and are ready to walk through the front door.  Dean puts on gloves and opens the front door carefully.  They both walk in and look around for a lit-up path.  But there’s nothing.  Either it’s been too long and the finding pathway spell has worn off, or maybe the moon is too much past being new. 

They check out the house anyways since they’re there.  They both marvel at all the rooms, the huge kitchen, dining room and living room on the first floor, the many bedrooms on the second floor and the huge suite up on the third floor.  It’s got an enormous bathroom en suite, a separate sitting room with a bay window and a huge king-size bed under even more windows.  The master suite takes up the entire third floor.

“Wow this is kind of a perfect set of rooms.”  Sam says with wonder.

“Yeah, wouldn’t mind living in here at all.” Dean agrees.

“So back to see Meredith tomorrow?” Sam says, walking back through the doorway to head down the back stairs to the kitchen.

Dean follows him closely, “Yep, don’t think we’re finding anything here tonight.  I’m just going to leave the pie here on the kitchen table just in case this Mohit character is still around.”

!@~!@~!@

Their night is about the same as the one before, an unspoken awkwardness as they get into bed, a long time to fall asleep for both of them and then the morning comes much too soon after sleeping in each other’s arms.

Sam wakes up first this time and is not at all surprised to feel Dean’s hair tickling his lips, he’s got his face buried in the top of Dean’s head, and Dean all snuggled into him like nothing’s changed.  Sam runs his hand up and down Dean’s back under his t-shirt, feeling instantly guilty for taking this without permission, but it’s been so long since he’s gotten to touch Dean like this.  That bone-deep craving for his brother’s skin has never ever gone away.  Like always Dean’s response is to undulate his hips against whatever friction he can find until he becomes more fully awake.

Dean’s hips freeze, he’d put off waking up for as long as he could, knowing it was Sam holding him, and maybe this was unwanted contact.  But Sam was stroking his back in that way that was always the precursor to morning sex and he’s conditioned okay, it’s not his fault.  Finally he brings himself under enough control to stop and opens up one eye, gritting out a “Good morning. Sorry ‘bout that, old habits.”

“No problem, ‘s my fault I was touchin’ you.  Old habits like you said. How ‘bout you take the bathroom first.” Sam offers, feeling badly that he got Dean so wound up like that and seeing that Dean’s now got a morning wood problem that isn’t going to quit on its own.

“Why’re you so sweet to me anyways Sammy?” Dean says throwing a pillow at Sam’s head, hard.

“Don’t really know Dean, just don’t take too long okay?” Sam laughs throwing the pillow at Dean’s retreating back.

“Fine princess, three minute special coming up.”

“God you’re gross.” Sam complains.

“You love me anyways.”  Dean laughs closing the door.

Sam just stares at the closed door for a while and then says quietly, “Yeah I do, I really do.”  He wills his own morning erection to just go away and leave him alone, conjuring up the top ten grossest body finds he’s ever had to suffer through, there’s a lot to choose from, and eventually it works.

Their breakfast downstairs that Celeste serves them is a perfect egg, bacon and cheese casserole thing with potatoes on the bottom that has Dean raving all the way on their drive back out to the rest home, “We gotta get that recipe Sammy.”

“Yeah, I’ll ask Celeste.  Then I’ll keep it with my zucchini bread recipe.”

“Don’t be a bitch about it.” Dean says.

“I won’t if you’re not a jerk about it.  Recipes are neighborly and also they’re like a bit of hope.  That we’ll have a place to cook them at some point.  How about that?” Sam says in that voice that says he’s not going to put up with any more of Dean’s foolishness.

“Yeah okay.” Dean mumbles, knowing when Sam’s got him beat.

“That a _yeah okay_ just to shut me up, or do you really get it Dean?” Sam pushes, because this is kind of a crucial point.

“I get it, I get it, damn you’re pushy this morning.” Dean says, sounding more amused than irritated, but reaching over and turning up the radio anyways.  They don’t talk the rest of the way to the rest home, just listen to the music flowing out of the speakers and watch the woods fly by out the windows. It’s a good silence anyways, one where they feel like they’re still communicating even though no one’s lips are moving.

“Hi Cathy, we’re here to see Ms. Trelawny.  Sam and Dean Winchester.” Sam says to the receptionist.

“Oh hi guys, of course, I remember you from yesterday.  Let me just get Mrs. Callahan okay?”

They hear the bell curtain ringing sound again at the mention of her name, like they’ve gone through a doorway, but it isn’t as intense of an effect this time, and she comes in sooner anyways to break them out of it, “Good morning gentlemen, Ms. Trelawny warned me that you would return today.”

“And here we are.  She in a visiting mood today?” Dean asks shaking her hand gently.  What is it about old people’s hands, they have so much texture and he always feels like he’s going to crush them in his grip no matter how gentle he is.

“Do not worry yourself dear. You are not holding my hand at all too tightly.” Mrs. Callahan reassures him, blue eyes twinkling up at him and turning to shake Sam’s hand briskly.  “Yes, she is up and raring to go this morning, you have lucked into two consecutive days.  It is unusual for her to be so alert.  I believe it has something to do with having waited for you for so long now.  So do be sure to make good use of the time.”  She pushes open the door to room 118 and announces them “Meredith dear, your gentlemen callers have indeed returned.”

“Good morning boys, please sit.” Meredith’s voice sounds stronger today than it did yesterday, as if finally getting to meet Sam and Dean has helped her after all the years of waiting.

Meredith is seated in her wheelchair this time, and she’s near the window again. She pulls first Dean and then Sam down slightly so she can brush a papery thin kiss to their cheeks.  They sit down on the small sofa and look over at her expectantly. 

“So, I see that it didn’t work.  I am very sorry for the delay boys, but it was worth a try.  Mrs. Callahan reminded me that there’s another way into the house, I had completely forgotten about the key.  Maggie dear do you have it?” She asks over her shoulder.  Mrs. Callahan re-enters the room holding a large ornate brass key with a burgundy tassel hanging off the end.

“Believe it or not, this is the key to the front door.  It makes the magic protecting the house relax in a way, it will let you in easier, and perhaps you’ll be able to see the path to my book.” Meredith says as Mrs. Callahan gives the key to Dean.

“Any special way we need to go in?” Sam asks.

“No dear, just turn the key like you would any other.  And you can go during the day if you like. If the pathway lights up, you should be able to see it, even in the daylight.”

“Alright then, thanks Meredith.”  Dean says, standing up and going over to talk with Mrs. Callahan.

“Meredith can I ask you something?” Sam asks quietly, a little hesitant that he doesn’t know her well enough to ask something like he wants to.

Meredith leans in a little closer to Sam, “Of course you may Sam, I am an open book.”

“Did you ever, well, were you ever able to find someone else to love?”

“No dear, I never did. I tried, lord knows I tried, but Mohit was special.  Not just because he was a faery, I think he was what you would call my soul mate.  There are a lot of things I would go back and change in my life, but loving him is not one of them, no matter what the result was.”

“Thanks, I’m sorry for asking something so intrusive.  I guess I was just too curious to let it go.”

She looks at Sam closely, piercing green eyes seeming to see him so completely, “I understand why you have asked this question Sam, you personally have experienced something similar to the situation I was in, did you not?”

“Yes, more than you can imagine.  He isn’t a faery, but he’s definitely my soul mate.  Still is.” Sam’s eyes flick over to Dean.

Meredith looks over at Dean talking to Mrs. Callahan and then back to Sam, “If he is indeed your soul mate as I was told he is, then I believe that what you have together is always something that can be fixed.  You do know that right dear?”

Sam’s eyes go wide at another person confirming that he and Dean are soul mates, “Yeah, I’m working up to it.”

“Life is so short Sam, do not bother to waste it on hesitation.  If he is your soul mate, then you should be together.  There is no other way to have a full life, believe me I do know, for I have tried.”

“Okay Meredith, I will, I promise.” Sam nods, his eyes now full of honest hope.

“Good, I can see you two being very happy together for a long time to come.” Meredith says as Sam kisses her cheek softly in goodbye.

“Me too, that’s the plan.” Sam admits, with a lump in his throat at how much he really wants that.

“Well go to it then young sir.  And good luck at the house, I do hope the key works for you.”

As they walk out, Dean hands Sam a silver medallion on a chain, “Here, Mrs. Callahan said we’d need these if we go into the house.”

Sam looks at it closely and sees a complicated design on one side and what looks like Faerie writing on the other.  “Hope it works. I have no idea what it says.”

  
~@~!~@~!~

 “We going in then?” Dean asks as they walk up onto the front porch.

“Just don’t forget, no eating or drinking anything, and don’t make any deals with them. You got your medallion on?” Sam asks.

“Yes mom.” Dean snarks, just because he can.

“Shut up jerk, just open the door, Mrs. Callahan gave you the key, so you should probably use it.”’

“Outta the way then bitch. Give me room,” Dean bends over and inserts the ridiculously ornate key into the equally ridiculously ornate brass plated lock and the door swings open with a cheery squeak.  “After you my dear Alphonse.” Dean says sarcastically bowing low and stepping back so Sam can pass by through the doorway.

“Where do you get that stuff from anyways?” Sam asks, shaking his head at his brother’s increasingly obscure pop-culture derived comments.

“What?” Dean asks, loving it that he’s used a phrase Sam actually doesn’t know.

“ _After you my dear Alphonse_ , what is that even from?” Sam asks.

“I’ll have you know I just heard it from Mrs. Callahan, they used to say it way back when, something about a comic about two French dudes.”

“That’s obscure even for you.” Sam says.

“Well I liked the sound of it.” Dean protests.

“I’m not seeing a pathway anywhere, but let’s just go through all the rooms together so we don’t miss anything.” Sam says warily, following closely after Dean.  They stick together and look through all of the rooms on every floor, but there’s no lit-up pathway showing up anywhere.

“Come on down this hall here, back in the kitchen, Mrs. Callahan was telling me about it, look.” Dean points out a small door halfway up the wall.

“Huh it’s a dumbwaiter, like in that creepy house with the people livin’ in the basement remember?” Sam says with delight at seeing such a cool thing in this great old house.

“Of course I do, that’s why I wanted to show it to you. Know you love that stuff Sammy, you big geek.” Dean says with pride in his voice, loving that he’s pleased Sam.

“Sorry, I just like all these details in these old places.  New houses are so boring.”

“Yeah, this one definitely has a whole lot of character, wouldn’t mind livin’ in a place like this.” Dean says, looking in several of the cabinets which are filled with beautiful china and crystal.

“What, like if you had to settle down somewhere or something?” Sam asks, watching his brother inspect the kitchen like he’s thinking of buying the place.

“Couldn’t you see it? Sam you’d have a library, and that garage out back is awesome and there’s so many rooms we could each sleep in different ones every night of the week.” Dean says, although he really is picturing them both staying in the third floor suite, with that big king-sized bed and huge bathroom.

“How could we even keep up a big place like this? It would be so damn expensive.” Sam says, obviously really considering the idea as they walk back down the hallway to the front door.

“I don’t know, I’m just spit ballin’.” Dean protests, because he has no freakin’ clue how they could manage it, but god would it ever be worth it, to give Sam a home like this, he’d give just about anything.

“No I like the idea, I’m serious, but how would we swing it?  Because I’d love it too.  Just for the garden alone, and Dean that kitchen is amazing, you’ve always wanted something like that right? Just think you could make that bacon egg casserole thing for us.” Sam says earnestly, loving the idea of giving Dean a home like he’s always deserved.

Dean’s heart feels like it’s suddenly been increased in size like the Grinch in that Christmas special, just at hearing Sam say the word “us” in relation to living in a house together, he answers with real happiness that’s impossible and pointless to hide, “We could figure something out, it’d be worth it you know? To have somewhere like this to call home?”

“Well, let’s get through this case first, huh?” Sam says, rocked back on his heels a little by how emotional and wrapped up they both got in the fantasy of living in this house. _Together._   Meredith’s words continue to replay in his head.

“Right, so I’m not seeing a lit-up path anywhere, are you?” Dean asks, looking around the foyer one last time. “Back to Meredith’s then?”

“Guess so.  Hope she’s not sick of us yet.”

“Naw, she seems to dig you.  Mrs. Callahan’s pretty cool too.” Dean says.

“Think she’s still up? It’s kinda late in the afternoon now, especially for people with her condition, there’s that whole sundowners thing.” Sam says, walking out through the front door.

“Let me call Mrs. C, hold on.” Dean says, producing his low-tech, non-smart phone that still has managed to capture the capable Mrs. Callahan’s phone number.

Sam shakes his head in surprise that Dean thought to get Mrs. Callahan’s number at all.  He was too busy getting relationship advice from Meredith.

Dean follows Sam out the front door onto the porch, and reaches back to close the door and remove the key, “Nope, she’s out for the count, but she told Mrs. C before she fell asleep that we’d have to bring her back out here tomorrow. That there’s no other way she knows of to get to her book.”

“Huh, that’ll be interesting.” Sam says.

“Yeah, no kidding.  Guess we’ve got the rest of the day to ourselves, what should we do?” Dean asks, wondering what one does in a small Vermont town for fun at night anyways, there were a few bars, but that doesn’t seem too appealing tonight for some reason.

“Kinda feel like a night in. We could watch a movie on my laptop.” Sam suggests.

“See any places that would have good takeout?”

“You pick tonight, I did last night.”

“Fine, burgers it is.”

“I’m just shocked I tell you, shocked.” Sam says in mock surprise, holding his face between his hands in the “Home Alone” gesture.

“Aw, I’ll get you a salad honey, don’t worry.”

“You better, and don’t you dare call me that again.  I don’t care what roles we’re playing.” Sam corrects, even though he really doesn’t mind being called a pet name like honey.  He just minds that Dean probably doesn’t really **_mean_** it.

They spend the night holed up in their room, sharing the containers of food back and forth that Dean had picked up from the Greek place.  Not a burger place after all, which surprised the heck out of Sam.  The baklava makes a terrible sticky mess that has them licking their fingers and trying not to stare at each other. They watch a couple of movies with the laptop propped up on the bed between them on the footstool.  It’s not the same as falling asleep to a droning TV and infomercials like they’re used to, but it works.

Sam wakes up slumped over onto Dean’s chest with the movie still playing in the background.  He puts away his laptop and moves the footstool back to the floor.  He moves to turn off the light but first looks his fill of his sleeping brother. Only Sam’s own sleepiness is enough to get him to stop staring, feeling like he’s memorizing Dean’s beauty and strength, the flaws, all of it wrapped up in that one person there, sleeping like there’s nothing wrong in the world.  And there kind of isn’t any more, not like there used to be, thanks to the both of them.

He turns off the light reluctantly and climbs into bed beside Dean, forgetting the whole stay-on-my-third-of-the-bed business and shuffles over to gather Dean into his arms.  Dean comes easily, so freely, just like he always does.  Like he always has.  There’s nothing better than this Sam thinks to himself as he falls asleep, happier than he’s been in at least a year or two.

~@~!~@~!~


	4. Chapter 4

The next morning goes pretty much the same way, Sam and Dean wake up completely wrapped around each other.  Both of them are awake for a long time but pretending to be asleep for as long as they can manage to wait.  In the end it’s Dean’s bladder that gets the best of him and he has to disengage. “Sorry Sammy, I’d love to stay in bed with you all morning, but a man’s gotta go when a man’s gotta go.” 

Sam just groans in response and buries his head in Dean’s pillow, enjoying breathing in the remnants of Dean’s scent.  He hasn’t had such good deep sleep in a long time, he feels so well-rested, just from sleeping together with Dean.  He starts wondering how he can make sure this sleeping in the same bed thing keeps happening on a regular basis from here on out.  Seems like it’s good for both of them.

After another wonderful Celeste-produced breakfast, they roll up to Cambridge Manor and park as near to the entrance as they can manage.  As they walk in Sam asks, “Hey, you think that there’s room in the trunk for the wheelchair?”

“Sammy you know there’s room for a couple of dead bodies, no problem.”

“Ssshh, and bodies aren’t the same shape as a wheelchair.” Sam whispers as they approach the front desk.

“Good morning Winchesters” the receptionist, Barbara sings out cheerily.

“Hey Barbara, good morning to you, Mrs. Callahan and Ms. Trelawny are expecting us.” Dean says, just as cheerily in return.

“I know it, let me buzz you on back, you know the way now right?” Barbara says, smiling at the two tall, handsome men standing at her desk.

They nod and go through the double doors as the buzzing lock sounds.  The bell curtain chiming noise happens at the same time, and there’s barely an effect for them to even notice.  They shrug to each other to communicate it silently.  There’s absolutely no one in the halls this early in the morning.  The door to room 118 is ajar, so they enter with a soft knock.  “We’re here.” Says Sam quietly.

“Right on time, we are ready.” Meredith crows from her wheelchair by the window. She’s dressed in heavier clothes, all shades of green and white, her hair is done up in complicated braids instead of loose.  Her eyes seem different, more alert and there, sparkling with anticipation.

“You sure about this Meredith?” Dean asks.

“Yes Dean, it is the only way left to us.  I cannot in good conscience let this keep happening. It has gone on for far too long.  I am also not sure that I will still be with it enough by the next equinox.  In addition, you two are finally here.  I cannot put this off any longer.”

“What do you say Mrs. Callahan?” Sam asks.

“I’m with Meredith one-hundred percent, as far as what happens at her house, what she says goes.”  Mrs. Callahan answers, her blue eyes twinkling up at Sam as she grips his elbow hard with a hand showing surprising strength.

“Well okay then.  Let’s do this.”  Dean begins pushing Meredith in her wheelchair out the door, but she stops him looking back for a second at the room fondly, as if she suspects she might not see it again.  Sam shares a concerned glance with Mrs. Callahan.

“Onwards, eh Merry?” Mrs. Callahan says briskly, clapping her hands together twice.

Everyone seems to snap out of it and heads down the hallway.  Getting into the Impala is an adventure, the ladies insist on sitting in the back which thankfully Dean had cleaned out not too long ago so there isn’t too much crap that they have to trample on.  The wheelchair when folded up fits with plenty of room to spare in the trunk.  Dean slams it and looks at Sam as if to say _I told you so_.  Sam just smirks.

The drive to Trelawny is quiet.  Mrs. Callahan holding up Meredith in the back seat, keeping her steady, Dean concentrating on driving as smoothly as possible.  Sam looking in the back seat often trying not to seem too nervous.

When they turn onto the driveway, Meredith straightens up and looks out the window avidly like she doesn’t want to miss a thing.  Sam can see Mrs. Callahan clutch at Meredith’s hand to keep her in check.  Meredith’s whole face is lit up though, like she’s seeing all her treasured memories flash by all at once.  Dean pulls them up in front of the house parking under the enormous tulip tree.  He helps Meredith out and she stands for a bit, leaning up against the Impala, looking up into the tree.  “I can’t believe how big this tree is.  Seems like it’s doubled in size since I’ve been here.”

Sam comes around with the wheelchair, steadying it as Meredith gets situated.  He pushes her up onto the porch, Dean helping negotiate the steps, and finally they’re at the front door.  “I believe I will need to walk through the doorway for this to work.” She says in a shaky voice.

“Are you sure Merry?” Mrs. Callahan asks her with a voice full of concern, reaching out to touch Meredith on the shoulders.

Meredith places her hands over Mrs. Callahan’s, and looks up at her, “Yes Maggie, it is truly the only way that will do.”  She squeezes their hands together briefly and let’s go, looking up at Sam and Dean, “Boys, whatever happens, you must keep those medallions on and do not let go of each other, not even for one second.” Meredith explains with sudden intensity.

Sam and Dean are supporting her between them and lock their hands together behind her back. They look at each other briefly and nod that they’re agreed to go through with whatever this turns out to be.

“Onwards then.” Meredith reaches out and opens the door.  The moment she walks through the doorway, the bell ringing curtain sound happens again, much louder than ever before.  She and Mrs. Callahan look around wildly as if they’re expecting something to happen.  Sam and Dean just feel slowed down and packed all around in cotton batting, everything muffled.  They can’t do a thing to help even if they knew what that was. 

A shimmer at the base of the stairs begins to glimmer and shake, and a tall, strikingly handsome Native American man appears, stepping through this doorway that shouldn’t exist.  His haughty deep-brown eyes take them in at a glance.  His dark-red robes flow around him almost as if they’re sentient, settling finally just above the floor. 

“Mohit? Is that you?” Meredith asks, almost collapsing between Sam and Dean.  They struggle to get out of their torpor to be able to support her.  They don’t let go of each other and concentrating on their connected hands seems to help.

Mohit inclines his head in a slight bow, his long, straight, shiny black hair covering his face momentarily, and intones in a deep, rich baritone, “You are no longer allowed here Meredith.  I have work to do.  You two will come with me now.”  He motions to Sam and Dean with one outstretched hand, the bone and bead bracelets on his arms shaking with the movement.

Mrs. Callahan is coming up behind them with the wheelchair so she catches Meredith as she falls out of Sam and Dean’s support as they raise their linked hands over her head and slowly walk towards Mohit as if in a tractor beam.  Their hands still remain locked, and they’re struggling the whole way across the hallway, faces etched with anger and worry as they try to resist moving towards the faery.

Mohit states to Sam and Dean, in this voice that is commanding, powerful and not to be argued with. “You have no approval for your love and it keeps you apart when you should be together. When you are with my people you will be happy there.”  They finally come to a stop in front of him, still holding hands, eyes locked on each other in worry that this might be it for them. Mohit begins a complicated hand motion and intones some words. To their dismay the shimmer starts to glow again at the foot of the stairs. 

“No Mohit, no more.  Your job is done.  These two do not need your help.  Please talk to me.” Meredith pleads, walking hesitantly towards him across the foyer with Mrs. Callahan’s support, shielding her eyes against the increased brightness of the shimmer now surrounding Mohit and Sam and Dean.

Mohit pauses in his incantation, but just shakes his head mournfully at her.  She sighs, seeing that he’s not able or willing to listen.  She does a quick spell of her own and the medallions that Dean and Sam wear suddenly blaze with a hot white light. Mohit stumbles back, covering his eyes.  Sam and Dean are abruptly released from his control, and are able to run back towards Meredith and Mrs. Callahan.

“Go boys! Get the book! Follow the path! Do you see it? Do not worry, Maggie and I will hold him.”  Meredith yells in a voice as loud as the shrill alarming sound the light from their medallions is now producing.

Finally they see it! Yes, there it is plain as day, a lit-up pathway all the way up the stairs.  Sam and Dean run up the wide staircase, hands still locked together, following the trail of glowing purple marks.  The pathway leads them all the way to the third floor into the suite of rooms right to the opening in the wall where the dumbwaiter comes up from the kitchen.  Sam leans in, still holding onto Dean’s hand, and sees a ledge inside the open framework and on it is a small red leather-bound book.  He reaches in and snags it. 

“This has got to be it.” Sam says over the continuing shrill noise of their medallions, holding the book out to Dean.

“Can you find the spell in it?” Dean asks loudly.

“We need to do this while we hold hands. Here, you hold the book in your hands, don’t let go of my left, and I’ll turn the pages with my right one.”  They arrange themselves with the book on a dresser near one of the windows.  Over the constant alarming drone of their medallions, they can hear a lot of noises coming from downstairs, it sounds like Mrs. Callahan and Meredith are keeping Mohit occupied for the moment.  Sam pages through frantically until he finds the passage describing the father’s separation spell.  It’s heartbreaking all over again to think of a father doing that to his only child.  Denying her the love of her life. On the next page the curse that Mohit laid on the house is detailed.  Sam can see where the two have overlapped.

“I think this part here is where the two got mixed together.  We’ve got to let him go from the father’s spell first.  From what I read, if we read this part of the spell in reverse it might work.  See how it’s spelled out phonetically here?”

“Okay, but what if it doesn’t work?” challenges Dean.

“Then we bring the book to Meredith.” Sam answers looking at him intently to see if he’s as scared as Sam’s feeling.

Dean nods in reassurance with a small one-sided _what-the-hell_ grin, “Let’s try it. Do we have to be near him?”

“No, I’m pretty sure he just has to be within hearing distance, like he was when the spell was originally cast.  I think the top of the stairs should do it.  And I’m guessing there’s something about these medallions, the design on them, see it here, written out next to the father’s spell?  I think we should hold them in our joined hands, they seemed to have a lot of juice when they broke Mohit’s control before.  And Meredith had insisted on us holding hands, so there’s something about that, maybe it’ll help.”

“You’re the wizard Sammy, whatever you say.” Dean squeezes his hand in reassurance.

They step out onto the landing and can just see the edge of Mohit’s red robes down on the first floor, so hopefully this is really close enough.  Sam grabs at his medallion and brings it close to Dean’s, they grasp them with their joined hands and hold the book up in their other two, so they can both read the phonetic spelling of the strange words, not Latin, not Enochian, but something else, maybe a Faerie language.  Their words seems to echo and get louder, the medallions emitting the bright light once again, amplifying the reversal spell, the noise from them approaching ear-splitting levels, until it all goes super bright and super quiet.  Everything in the whole house seems to shake and then resettle.

Mrs. Callahan yells up to them, “Good work boys, come on down.”

They let go of the medallions but not their hands, Dean holds firmly onto the book and they get down the three flights of stairs as fast as possible.  The scene below is one of chaos, like a whirlwind has gone through the hallway, nothing remains in one piece, everything torn into shreds and small pieces.  Mrs. Callahan is holding Meredith’s hand tightly in hers and they’re looking closely at Mohit who is standing as still as a statue against the stair railing. He looks like he’s coming out of a trance, slowly he begins shaking his head, tossing his long hair back and forth, bone and bead necklaces rattling, until he finally stops, looking at them with clear vision for the first time.

“What happened?”  Sam asks Meredith.

“You reversed my father’s spell.  And the effect is still working through him.” She answers.

“Meredith, you’re standing up, are you okay?” Dean asks, concerned to see her just standing there, the wheelchair knocked over and broken to bits behind them.

“I’m fine Dean, now that the spell has been reversed I can be here again, I am feeling somewhat restored.” Meredith answers, brushing a stray hair out of her eyes that’s come out of her braids.

Dean notices that she looks much younger, her body straightened out and her face less wrinkled.  Her long braided red hair even seems to have fewer streaks of gray. Mrs. Callahan still looks the same, except she has a very happy look on her face. 

“You boys did it!  I know you had no idea but you two were the only ones that could have done this for her.” Mrs. Callahan says, grinning from ear to ear, making her look ten years younger.

“What did we do?” Sam asks, because he really doesn’t know what happened here.

“Now they can be together Sam, as they were always meant to be.” Mrs. Callahan answers nodding at Mohit and Meredith who are now standing an arm’s length from each other.

Mohit finally shakes off the remnants of the spell reversal and stands up to his full height, and addresses Sam and Dean over Meredith’s head, “I still must take you two to my people.”

“No Mohit, the spell my father cast is now gone, you can remove the curse you laid now.” Meredith protests.

“There is no removing the curse. You know this is not possible Meredith.” Mohit answers, a deep sadness etching his face.

“You are the one who set it.  Mohit undo it for me please.  They are the ones who brought me back to you.” Meredith begs.

“My heart is unchained, and for that I am thankful.  But the curse still compels me to bring this couple back to my people where they can be happy.  I will come back for you Meredith.” Mohit tries to assure her.

Meredith stamps her foot in impatience, “No Mohit, I will not be here if you do that.  You must choose.”

Mohit steps towards her and takes one of her hands, bringing it to his lips to gently kiss the back of it, “I cannot make that choice, do not expect me to Meredith.”

Meredith looks up at him with pleading eyes, “Mohit if you still love me, then choose me.”

“We aren’t a couple.” Dean says flatly, interrupting their back and forth argument.

“Is this true?” Mohit asks as he turns away from Meredith and faces Sam and Dean.

“Yes, it is.  We were previously, but now we aren’t.  We have a bond yes.  But we are not a couple, not like one you normally concern yourself with.” Sam explains, instantly getting what Dean is trying to do.  No matter how much it kills him to say this out loud.

“You do not love him?” Mohit demands of Dean. “Answer true or your life is forfeit.”

Dean tears his gaze away from Mohit and looks at Sam, “I do.  I love him”

“And you?” Do you love him?” Mohit demands of Sam.

Sam is looking back at Dean in honest surprise, their silent communication going strong, but Sam answers, “Yes I do.  I love him.”  Dean’s eyes widen in matching surprise, wandering over his brother’s face. His heart full once more on hearing this answer, but his joy must be postponed until they deal with Mohit.

“And yet you are not a couple, why should I believe you?” Mohit asks.

“You should believe it, because it is the truth.  We were a couple, yes, for a long time.  But now we are not.” Dean answers, letting the sadness he feels at this truth show in his naked unprotected eyes. 

Sam nods in agreement, “It is true, we are no longer a couple.” And answers Dean’s silent question with his own sadness.

Mohit examines first Dean’s face closely, reading all the awful truth that is written there for everyone to see, he turns to look at Sam in the same manner and sees the twin expression of sadness, loss and frustration.  “Then there is no reason remaining for me to take you.  I can stay with Meredith until the next equinox.”

“That is still a few weeks away Mohit.” Meredith says, breathing a sigh of relief that Sam and Dean won’t fall victim to her family’s curse.

“We’ll just be going then, leave you two alone to get to know each other again.  I’m sure you have a lot of catching up to do.” Dean says, pulling at Sam to go towards the door.

“Halt!” Mohit commands holding up one hand to stop them.  Sam and Dean freeze in place waiting to see what he’ll do next.  He steps towards Meredith and takes both of her hands in his, looking down at her intently, “Meredith, will you accompany me to the land of my people?  I shall be able to heal you there, and we can be together just as we had always planned.  What say you?”

Meredith doesn’t hesitate in her answer.  “Yes, I thought you’d never ask.” She throws her arms around his neck and he gathers her up in close in a passionate embrace.  They kiss slowly, with no shame or hesitation even though there’s an audience.

Mohit lets her back down slowly, and caresses her cheek softly with one enormous hand, “We should go soon Meredith, I do not sense you have long to still remain yourself within your own mind. Am I correct?”

Meredith holds the hand steady against her cheek, leaning her weight into his strength, “Yes, the disease I have is progressing more rapidly.  Sooner rather than later is better.  I have it all arranged so that I may leave right now.  I was hoping something like this would happen based on what you had told me all those years ago.” She turns away from Mohit, “Maggie you know what to do and where all my paperwork is located, correct?”

“Don’t worry about a thing Merry, I’ll take care of it. Just like we talked about. You can count on me dear.” Mrs. Callahan answers in a trembling, yet happy voice.

“I always have Maggie, thank you.”  Meredith steps away from Mohit and holds Maggie’s hands closely to her and kisses them gently.  “You have been my best beloved friend, I shall never forget what you have done for me.”

“It was an honor to know you Merry. It truly was.” Maggie says bowing her head in sadness and recognition.

Meredith turns to Sam and Dean.  “Now, you two, in thanks for freeing me and my love and my house, I give her to you.  Trelawny is all yours.  All that I ask is that you keep her up in the style to which she is accustomed to.”

“Meredith, we couldn’t possibly accept something like this.” Sam protests.

“Sam, it is already drawn up, I had the papers done with my lawyer years ago.  That is how certain I was that you two would eventually get here.  Please let me do this for you.  You both deserve it.  After what you’ve done for the world.”

“How do you know what we’ve . . .?”

“Dean, when you closed all the Gates, it was hard to mistake who was behind it.  As I mentioned before, Mohit had warned me about you two, what was it he called you back then?  Warriors for the World I think it was.”  Meredith pats him on the cheek and smiles at both of them.

Sam looks over at Dean to see what he thinks and gets a silent nod with a smile in Dean’s eyes, Sam looks back over to Meredith, “Yes Meredith, we will, we promise to take care of Trelawny.”

“Promise me something else Sam, you work on what we talked about, okay?” Meredith says, with a wink.

Sam nods, “Yes, I will, I promise Meredith.  Thank you.”

“Good bye all. I am off to my next adventure.” Meredith hugs Sam and Dean in turn giving them kisses on their cheeks.

Mohit bows to Sam and Dean in thanks and shakes each of their hands in turn.  “I thank you most deeply for returning my love to me.  These lands shall now be yours. Have no fear, I shall not return.”

Mohit gestures and intones the spell again and the shimmering doorway reappears. Meredith puts her arm through Mohit’s and they walk past the barrier, disappearing without a sound, taking the shimmer away with them.

“So how are we going to explain this to the nursing home Mrs. C?” Dean asks, breaking the sudden stillness.

“Meredith has thought of everything, please do not worry.  If you are able to get me back to Cambridge Manor in one piece, it will all work out as she has planned.” Mrs. Callahan answers in an exhilarated yet sad voice.

“What happens to all the people who Mohit took to his people’s lands?” Sam asks as they walk out the front door, Dean firmly closing it behind them.

“Meredith believed that when she was finally there with him that she could make sure the disappeared couples would have the chance to return here if they want to.  I am sure some of them will, as well as some of them will choose to stay in Mohit’s lands where they are happy and accepted.”

“Ready to go?” Sam asks Dean, fingering the medallion and thinking about what they’d both just declared to Mohit.  _If we love each other, why aren’t we together?_ That’s the $24,000 question, and he knows Dean is thinking it too, because he’s quiet.  Way too quiet after an exciting hunt like this. Dean just nods silently and gets in the Impala, starting it up without a word.

They drive Mrs. C back to the nursing home, and in the parking lot she asks them to come inside with her.  Neither of them had ever seen her room before, it’s smaller than Meredith’s, but just as neat and tidy as Mrs. C herself.  “So, Merry asked me to take those medallions back from you and keep them safe.”  They both remove the silver necklaces and hand them over to her.  She places them in a jewelry box on her desk and turns around with a large stack of official looking papers.  “And she also directed me to give you this.” She hands the stack of paperwork to Sam, which he can see includes the deed and so on for the house. 

“Is this what I think it is Mrs. C?” Sam asks, bewildered and confused even though Meredith had told them earlier.

“Yes Sam, Trelawny is all yours.  Meredith also left you some money, which is in the local bank. Here is the information on that also.  I wish you both good luck, and you must have me over sometime once you have moved in.  Please do not be strangers now.”  She shoos them out the door quickly, obviously wanting to be alone and mourn the absence of her friend.

They head back to Smuggler’s Rest and check out, thanking Celeste for her hospitality and promising her a mention in their article if it is ever published.  Sam feels badly about deceiving her, since they’ll be living in the same town now.  But they’ll have to come up with a story to cover that somehow.

Picking up some basics for the kitchen at the store, and a quick stop at Susan’s Bakery for fresh bread and another pie, they head back out to what is now their house in a sort of stunned stupor, not saying much.  Both still thinking on the question of the day _.  If we love each other why aren’t we together?_   They clean up the mess in the foyer as best as they can, luckily there wasn’t too much furniture ruined in the events that took place there earlier today.  Dean makes some dinner while Sam cleans out a few of the bedrooms on the second floor for them. They toast with beer over their hamburgers in the kitchen.

“To us finally having a house.” Dean proclaims.

“And to Meredith finally having her Mohit.” Sam adds.

“Pretty weird isn’t, how we end up getting what we wanted for once.” Dean observes through a mouthful of partially chewed hamburger.

Sam nods, “Yeah, I’m not sure what to really think, it’s all too perfect you know?”

“Think Mohit is really gone? Or are we still on the edge of Fairyland here?” Dean takes a swig from his beer.

“I did a couple finding spells while I was upstairs, and out in the yard.  It seems like he’s really gone. As far as I can tell, we’re safe.”

They’re both thinking so hard about suddenly getting almost everything they ever wanted that conversation is at a minimum as they clean up the dishes and head upstairs.

“Well, goodnight, see you in the mornin’” Dean says, just a little sadly, closing the door to his room.  He can hear Sam’s footsteps getting fainter as he pads away down the hallway to his chosen room, the door closing quietly.  And then there he is alone in his big room with the slightly musty smelling draperies and the enormous old carved four-poster bed like something out of a gothic novel.  He finds himself wishing for a small two-queen motel room with the presence of his brother more than he’d ever thought possible.  How could he miss something like that? Just the quiet, no-sound of Sam’s breathing as he falls asleep, no hum from Sam’s laptop, or tapping from his pencil on the research papers.  Instead he has only the quiet settling of an old house all around him and the emptiness of the space where his brother should be. 

Down the hall in his room, Sam’s stretching and doing some yoga poses, at first just happy to have a little alone time where no one is mocking him or making stupid noises while he meditates.  Right away he’s missing it, all of the annoyances that come with being with Dean, the reminders that he’s right there where he should be. Once Sam’s settled in bed, the loneliness of the room hits him like a big wet pillow, wrapping him in a heavy uncomfortable silence.  No snores from Dean’s side of the room, no rustling around of paper bags and clinking of secreted away liquor bottles.  Just silence.

_It’s been too many years living practically on top of each other, I just need to get used to_ it he tells himself sternly, trying to go to sleep. But all he can think about is that long, endless year when Dean was gone, and how it was just like this, too quiet, too still, the space not filled up correctly, even with Amelia.  That disconnect between wanting him back and needing his space that’s needled him forever seems so silly now.  All he wants is his brother in the same room.  Like always, like he’s supposed to be.

Unable to sleep, Sam finally gives up and goes downstairs to the kitchen to brew himself some tea, thinking maybe that will help.  As the kettle’s warming up he hears quiet footsteps coming down the servant’s back staircase.  Dean of course, looking a little abashed about being here, which means he was probably having the same trouble.

“Couldn’t sleep either huh?” Sam asks with a wry grin.

Dean shrugs and yawns, “Yeah, too quiet in my room.”

“Want some tea?” Sam offers, holding out a mug.

“Sure.”  Dean, drinks slowly, not saying anything more, just watching Sam putter around with the tea things, tidying up like he always does.

“Hey Sammy?”

“What?”

“This might sound stupid but, wouldja mind if we used one of the rooms that has two beds tonight?  I just think I’d maybe sleep better.” Dean asks.

“Sure, good idea.  I think the room in between ours had two beds.”

“’kay, thanks.” Dean says, thankful that Sam’s not awake enough to be teasing him.

“It’ll help me too.” Sam says, glad that Dean was courageous enough to say it first.

They walk up the small twisting back staircase together to the second floor and open up the door to one of the larger bedrooms.  Two double beds with a small bedside table in-between them, not much else besides a small table with two chairs, a dresser and a closet.  Not very much unlike one of the thousands of motel rooms they’ve stayed in their whole lives.  Dean of course chooses the bed nearest the door, Sam getting the window side. 

“Guess it’s what we’re used to.” Sam says as he settles down into his bed.

“Why mess with what works?”  Dean answers with a shrug, climbing into his own.

“Night Dean.”

“Night Sammy.”

They fall right asleep without any further discussion about how screwed-up it probably is that they can’t even manage to sleep without each other in the same room any more.  Not like there’s anyone left to tell them that of course, and hell they’ve both known for a long time that the word co-dependent doesn’t even come close to describing them. 

~@~!~@~!~


	5. Chapter 5

In the morning, Sam wakes up to the sounds of Dean getting up out of his bed. He peeks open one eye and sees him stretching his arms wide like he does every morning, looking out the window over Sam’s bed going through the Marine Corps stretch routine that their dad had taught them so many years ago.

“Mornin’” Sam says, looking up at his brother in the new day’s light, which seems to paint him in gold hues that make him even more beautiful, he can’t help but smile at the thought that at least he gets to see this sight every morning, Dean whole and alive and beautiful, smiling back at him.

“Mornin’ to you too sunshine, you gonna stay in bed all day? I ain’t bringing you breakfast in bed.”

“I’m getting up, just didn’t want to interrupt you.”

“You just like your free show every morning.”

“Yeah, I do. So what, you’re the exhibitionist buddy, you could do that anywhere else in this giant house of ours.” Sam grumbles.

“Just say the word Sammy, we can designate one of the rooms as the stretching room, you can do yours at night and I can do mine in the morning.”

“I don’t mind watching.”

Dean smiles to himself, “Oh so it’s like that is it?”

“Maybe, so what if it is.”

“Not sure I like you ogling me.”

“Jesus Dean.”

“Well, you’re the one watching me.”

“Of course I am. Who wouldn’t?”

Dean can’t help but inwardly preen a little at that, knowing that Sam still finds him attractive after all this time.  Even if things are so strange between them these days that he’s completely given up trying to figure out where he stands in Sam’s estimation.

Sam sees Dean react to his statement and is pleased, because he wasn’t sure that his attention was still wanted any more.  Just because they said they loved each other out loud, and in front of other people yesterday, hasn’t changed that.  Dean’s been giving him mixed signals ever since he got back from Purgatory, and since they closed all the Gates, but they’re not back together.  Not like they used to be. And Sam’s realized that he wants that, really wants that again with Dean, especially now that they have this place.  His wanting normal and safe includes Dean whether he acknowledges it or not, but they haven’t had that conversation and probably never will get around to it.

Sam decides to act instead of saying anything and reaches out the short distance to where Dean’s resumed stretching.  He runs his hand up and down the back of Dean’s thigh, loving how familiar the feeling of that particular muscle in that particular thigh is, the way it responds with a little twang to Sam’s touch like always. 

Dean sinks into his bent-over stretch without a word, inwardly thrilling that finally, finally a move has been made.  He’s been waiting all this time for Sam to make up his damn mind, not wanting to be demanding when things were so up-in-the-air because of all the fighting about Amelia and Benny and the postponement of figuring things out because of getting through all the trials to close the Gates.  It’s been one of the hardest things to get through, having Sam right there next to him, living and breathing, bitch-facing and laughing, but not able to touch him. 

When Dean doesn’t say anything about being touched, Sam takes that as an invitation to continue, figuring that this new Dean would definitely speak up if his advances were unwanted.  Sam moves his hand up the back of Dean’s thigh towards the lower part of where the swell of his ass begins, feeling the hardness of the muscles under the skin, the lovely fleshiness of Dean’s ass cheeks.  He rubs back and forth getting closer and close to the center near the crease between them where Dean is always so sensitive.   Sam would swear that Dean’s leaning back into his touch at this point, that he’s bearing up part of Dean’s weight under the touch of his one hand.  Sam decides to stop right there, not wanting to go any further until they’ve talked about this.  Not wanting to mess up the potential happiness that’s literally right here in the palm of his hand.

As soon as Sam’s hand leaves Dean’s body he feels himself sag in disappointment that Sam’s not pursuing this.  Half-hard and more than half-ready Dean turns and looks down at his brother, splayed out over the bed, relaxed and smiling up at him.  “You just teasing me Sammy?”

“Maybe, why do you want me to?”  Sam asks with that lopsided grin that’s always been irresistible.

Dean gestures at his more than apparent erection, beginning to tent out his pajama bottoms. “What’s it look like to you?”

“Looks like I’m doing something right.” Sam answers, throwing a challenging look up at Dean, holding his breath a little, and betting that he’ll catch it.

“Such a cock tease Sammy.”

“Least I’m not a clueless idiot.”

“What am I bein’ clueless about?”

“Would you just…get down here already?”  Sam spreads his legs in invitation, hoping against all faint hope that his brother is finally ready for this.

Dean hesitates, unsure that Sam isn’t going to change his mind at the next moment, “You’re sure?”

“Yes, I swear, just c’mon.” Sam practically begs.

Dean shrugs, feeling truly helpless against that look from Sam, the one that promises everything is on offer, that all he has to do is take it; his stomach swoops at the thought of this opportunity, to have and to take, to reconnect with Sam.  He lowers himself down over his brother slowly, wanting to feel his whole body react, thighs tightening up, then stomach, chest beginning to heave as Sam breathes faster, that red flush starting to show above the collar of his t-shirt, a little perspiration beading in the hollow of his throat.  Dean zeroes in on that and dives forward to lap it out, nipping around the edges on Sam’s neck tendons.

Dean’s bites cause Sam to groan and pull him down the rest of the way, sealing their bodies together with only their pajamas in-between.  Sam arches his head back as far as he can, burying himself past the edge of the pillows, baring his neck as completely as possible,  his eyes closed, making the familiar noises that tell Dean he’s biting him in the right places.

Feeling Dean biting his way up and down his neck is just about the best thing Sam’s felt in well over a year.  That his brother is all over him, weighing him down, pushing him into the mattress is a close second.  Sam can hear Dean saying something quietly in a little whispered groan every time he’s biting his neck, he can’t make it out though, it sounds like just a couple words repeated over and over again. 

“What’re you saying?” Sam gasps out as Dean stops and sucks hard at the spot where Sam’s neck meets his collarbone, his favorite place to have Dean’s mark. 

Dean stops and looks down at Sam, “I’m saying mine, still mine, ‘cause you are, right Sammy?”

“Yeah Dean, yeah of course I am.”

“Good. Now can I keep kissing you or are you looking for more conversation?”

Sam answers him by leaning up and into Dean, melding himself to Dean’s body and pulling him down, hard, clacking their teeth together violently in a possessive kiss.

“Always yours Dean, always.” Sam whispers into the small space between their lips.

Dean feels the air move past his over-heated lips and smiles down at Sam, kisses him between his eyebrows, smiling into the skin.  “Thank you Sam.”

Dean wants more than anything to say it, just come out right now and say it for once, but he can’t. He knows Sam gets it, of course he does.  Dean wonders if it would change anything if all of a sudden he was able to say those three little words without it practically requiring a law passed by both houses of Congress.  Yeah he loves Sam, and he’s pretty sure Sam knows it, body and soul, inside outside, come Hell, Heaven or Purgatory, nothing’s separating them. Not ever.  If Death and Life haven’t been able to so far, then Dean can’t imagine anything or anyone else more powerful that possibly could.

They pull and tug at each other’s clothing, finally getting it all off so that there’s nothing between them but their lifelong love for each other and this effervescent something that’s always there sparking up between them.  That force that’s gotten them through more bad spots than most couples ever have thrown at them. 

Dean’s still on top of Sam, looking down at him with an unabashed look of open admiration, love and lust.  Sam returns the look and pulls him down for another long searching kiss.  It seems like forever that they were apart, but he finds that there isn’t much he’s forgotten about Dean’s mouth and lips, Dean still kissing in that all-consuming, mind-blowing way that ruined Sam for anyone else’s kisses over the years.  He doesn’t know if it’s just how Dean kisses or just how Dean kisses **_him._** He’s not stopping right now to ask, not when Dean is pushing his legs even further apart so that they can slot together in their familiar arrangement, the one they’ve perfected in all of these years of finding pleasure together.  Both knowing that the friction is what they need, but everything else is what they want.

Dean feels that key-in-the-lock feeling once he gets in the right spot over Sam, moving to take them both in hand to seal the deal, but he tangles hands with Sam first, who was reaching to do the same thing.  They wind their fingers together around their straining erections, slicked by sweat and pre-come, their grip just right, the sensation of his cock sliding against his brother’s after all this time. Is almost overwhelming.  The strength under the softness, how alive he feels holding Sam like this, being held by Sam like this. Their hips move in unison and counterpoint until it’s all just too good to bear. 

Sam’s straining up to lick at the sweat on Dean’s neck, and then biting down hard to mark Dean, whispering “mine all mine.”

“Yeah Sammy, all yours baby, always.” Dean says in response, shivering at the dark possessive whispers that Sam isn’t stopping. He feels Sam’s motion change when he hears Dean’s words, like a switch has been flipped, just his acknowledging the return possessiveness was all it takes, he can feel the tell-tale signs that he’s never forgotten, that Sam’s about to come.

“Love you Dean. Love you so much.” Sam yells out as he goes over the edge, not regretting it for a second because it’s the truth, and he’s going to keep telling Dean that until he damn well believes him.

Dean hears those words for the second time in two days and he can’t say anything, all he can do is stroke them faster and harder until he joins Sam in that wordless oblivion where he’s not expected to speak.  Floating in that haze he knows that Sam knows he loves him, he said it just yesterday.  Before witnesses even, and Sam knows he meant it for always and for true.

They fall back asleep almost instantly, curled up together in Sam’s small bed.  Sated, marked, and finally back where they’re supposed to be.

~@~!~@~!~

**_A few months later:_ **

In the mornings they now wake up on the third floor, in their four-poster bed wrapped up together just like usual.  Nothing is better than lying there just watching the other finish their sleep and slowly awaken, eyes smiling first then everything else.  Sam will get up first and go running, Dean’s usually got some breakfast cooked by the time he gets back.  They eat in the enormous kitchen, the dining room is too huge to be comfortable for just the two of them.   Three days a week Dean’s got EMT training classes, he’s working towards getting his certificate.  He’d wanted to be a fire-fighter but Sam has vetoed that idea, not wanting to risk him after everything they’ve gone through.

Sam spends his days in their library room on the first floor, managing his antiquarian online book store, specializing mostly in occult texts, but expanding to folklore, fairy-tales, and any fiction that’s related.  He’s steadily working through digitizing all of Bobby’s and the Campbell library, the books that came with Trelawny from Meredith’s occult obsessed father, and the books he was able to save out of the Men of Letter’s bunker. Once they’re digitized and backed-up, it seems silly to hold onto all of the books themselves.  Besides they turn out to be worth a whole lot of money.  There is a surprising market for that type of stuff, either just collectors, occultists, or the occasional hunter. 

He also has spent a lot of time getting all of the information on their remaining hunting issues, ghosts, spirits, cursed objects and Fae into a database.  They used to have to struggle and search before, but now it’s just a few strokes of a finger or two and BAM – there it is.  Garth’s always calling or referring people to him for help with hunts.  So Sam pitches in to help the hunters that call, when he and Dean are home and not out on hunts of their own.

They’re both relieved that the stalemate is over, that they’re both flexible enough to move past the sore spots and hurts left behind from their rocky patch.  Sam never mentions Amelia or his dog Riot, and Dean never talks about Benny or what happened in Purgatory. They don’t talk about the more recent terror of almost losing each other through the whole Gate-closing ordeal.  That silence and avoidance works for both of them, for now at least.  Just one more conversation that they’ll never really have outright, but instead tell the tale with their actions, like how Dean will still throw himself bodily in front of Sam when they’re hunting.  So frustrating to Sam, because he’s as least as good at hunting as Dean is, and wants to protect him just as much.  Or how Sam will fall into position behind Dean, just over his left shoulder like they’ve always done, following every move that Dean makes almost before he’s done making it.

They never had a conversation about their declarations before Mohit, but that’s really what’s underlying their reunion.  When they both heard the other say that there was still love between them, it didn’t make sense to stay apart any longer.  And it’s better than it was before, because they lost the thread of them for a while and treasure it even more now that they’re woven back together.

~@~!~@~!~

After they’ve got the kitchen figured out and feel a little more moved in they invite Mrs. C, Celeste and Susan to come over for dinner.  Susan drives them all over in the bakery delivery van, and presents them with a pie on the doorstep.  “Well, we’re _really glad to see you Susan_ ,” Dean jokes, taking the pie off her hands.  Sam takes coats and hangs them up and brings everyone into the sitting room. 

“We’ve got some little things to eat before dinner. Dean’s doing drinks.”

“Who wants what?” Dean asks from behind the bar he’s set up in the corner at one of the higher tables.

“I see you really have moved in,” says Mrs. C, “I’ll take a martini, light on the vermouth, heavy on the olives.”

“White wine if you’ve got some.” Celeste says.

“That sounds good, me too.” Susan adds.

Dean fixes up all the drinks and serves them up proudly from a silver tray he’d found in the china cabinet.  They all try the small snacks and congratulate Sam and Dean on how good the house looks.

“It kind of takes care of itself you know? But we’re having fun figuring out all of this homeowner stuff, never done it before you know?” Sam says looking over at Dean with a smile.

“So, did everything work out between you two?” Mrs. C asks Dean when Sam’s showing Celeste and Susan the rest of the house.

“Yeah, yeah it did actually.” Dean answers, hand going to the back of his neck nervously.

“It’s okay Dean, I don’t care that you’re brothers.  Merry told me your story.”

“Oh, cool.  Uh, I’ve been meaning to ask you, how did she know so much about us anyways?” Dean asks.

“Merry was what some people would call a psychic, but I would say the more accurate term would be a seer, because she could see the future.  Not all the time.  But she had a lot of details on you either from Mohit or because she asked her spirit guides for them.  She said they were never so chatty except when they were talking about those Winchester brothers.”

“You’re brothers?” Celeste asks, standing stock-still in the doorway, sounding shocked and scandalized.

“That a problem for you Celeste?” asks Dean challengingly.  Sam puts a hand on his shoulder to restrain him.

“No, well, I don’t know, I just had thought you were, you know. Married, like you said.” Celeste stumbles over her words haltingly, not sure what to say.

“Celeste, if you’re not comfortable we’ll understand if you want to leave.” Sam offers.

“Sam, that’s not what I meant, I was just surprised.” Celeste protests.

Susan adds, “Sure not what I expected since you introduced yourselves as a married couple.”

“Well to be clear, we are a couple, but we’re not married because of the brother thing.” Dean says, steel strength in his voice.

“We’re sorry we had to tell you a lie like that when we first met, we were just trying to save more people from disappearing at the house.” Sam says, trying to gauge how Susan and Celeste are really reacting.

“Susan and Celeste, there is something you should know about Sam and Dean, Meredith foresaw them coming to town and saving future couples from disappearing, she also saw what they’d survived and done in the past, which includes literally saving the world a couple of times if I’m not mistaken.  They’re not your average pair of brothers, their love is somewhat of a legend in the spirit world.  It is indeed a big part of the reason she gave them her house.” Mrs. C says.

“Well if Meredith and you knew that and still like ‘em, then they’re okay by me.” Declares Susan.

“Me too, Meredith was the best judge of character I ever met in my life.” Celeste agrees.

“Thanks ladies, that means a lot to us.  Not many people know that about us.” Dean says, happy that they’ve got a few people on their side now.  Sam smiles tentatively at them all and doesn’t say anything. Dean pulls him in close and whispers, “See, it’s all cool dude.” Sam squeezes him back and manages a bigger smile, but Dean can tell he’s still thinking about the whole near-miss.

~@~!~@~!~

They’re happy to finally hear from Castiel again, after Heaven’s Gate was closed it wasn’t clear where he had ended up.  It turns out that Castiel became mostly human when Heaven was closed, and he had left them on their own for a while to “find himself and his purpose”.  Dean teases him about finding his “special purpose”, and then has to try and explain the old Steve Martin movie ‘The Jerk’ to the former angel. 

“But why would he buy her a thermos Dean, is there some special significance to that particular item?” Castiel asks, completely confused as usual at Dean’s pop culture references.

After that first contact, Castiel calls them every month or so, or sends them strange postcards from around the world that they put up on the fridge with magnets Dean’s made out of old bullet casings.

“What, a guy can’t have some hobbies?  I like melting metal, you gotta problem with that, go summon Bobby’s ghost and have it out with him, he’s the one that got me started on it.”

It’s strange that someone else is doing the traveling now, but honestly, neither of them really miss it all that much.  Even though they lived most of their life out on the road, both of them had always longed to have a place to just stop for a while.  Put all of it down and rest. They’d gotten a taste of that with the Bat Cave as Dean had liked to call it, but it wasn’t really ever theirs.  And now it’s gone thanks to the intervention of Heaven.

Over the next few months, they still take road trips of course, Dean insists that his baby needs at least a few hundred miles put on her a month otherwise she’ll give up on him.  Sam finds them hauntings and minor faerie folk to investigate and take care of.  That’s pretty much all that’s left out there with Hell, Heaven and Purgatory closed off.  But they’re okay with it, they don’t miss dealing with demons or all the monsters, and they surely don’t miss the angels who could never be counted on to have humankind’s best interest in mind.

Eventually Castiel shows back up in person, this time with Meg in tow which surprises Sam and Dean as they had assumed that Crowley had really killed her.  He did, but Castiel was able to intervene, using some of the power of the angel tablet he’d stashed inside himself. The two of them have been traveling together for a few months and seem pretty happy to be back together. 

As they all stand on their front porch chatting, Dean realizes that he’ll have to let them both into what is now their home, and he bristles automatically at the thought of inviting a demon in. Dean is about to object, put his foot down, but Sam holds him back.

Castiel sees this interaction and reads it correctly for once, “Sam and Dean, I know that we should not assume that Meg is welcome here. But I hope you would do me the favor of listening to her.” Cas says, and nods at Meg.

Meg clears her throat a little nervously and looks at both Sam and Dean in turn, “Listen, I know that I can’t just apologize for everything I did to you before, and you wouldn’t believe me anyways. I wouldn’t ever expect to assume you’d forgive me.  But I know you from the inside out Sam, and I saw first-hand just how big your heart is.  And I think you both saw how I changed once I had Cas to look out for.  Just give me another chance. It’d mean a lot to him to still get to see you two jokers.”

Dean scowls and shakes his head no, Sam looks like he’s at least considering her words.

Cas interrupts their non-answers, “She makes me very happy.  And I will no longer come visit you unless she can accompany me.”

Sam pulls Dean away from the porch back into the house and holds up a hand indicating they’ll be right back.  “Dean, I know you don’t want to lose seeing our friend over this.  I, think she turned around at the end, we saw her give her life to save him.”

“I know, I know.  It’s just . . . doesn’t feel right, trusting a demon enough to come into our house, especially one that killed so many of our friends.” Dean says with real hesitation.

“I get it, I do, believe me, just her reminding me that she possessed me is freaking me out a little here.  But c’mon, losing Cas over having her around isn’t worth it.”

Dean thinks for a minute, searching Sam’s face wordlessly, finally he nods and walks back out onto the porch.

“Alright, we can’t forgive what you did to our friends, and to Sam. But you did help us, and Cas here.  So just don’t expect us to be happy about it.”

“It will take getting used to, but please, both of you, come in.” Sam offers, ushering them into the house.

“Fair enough, I can live with that.” Meg says, crossing the threshold and looking around the entry way.

“Thank you, I did not like having to present an ultimatum, but I had no other choice.” Cas says, following Meg into the house.

Meg is pretty much the last demon left on Earth.  She doesn’t have her full powers, just like Cas doesn’t have his. They have to actually drive places in their little red Prius, no more zapping here and there.  Dean gives them no end of shit for driving that particular car. It turns out that she’s stuck in her meat suit, just like Cas is stuck in his vessel.  Poor Jimmy Novak, he’d had no real idea what he’d signed up for when he was desperate to save his daughter, but there’s nothing Cas can do about that now.  He says that when he looks inside himself he can only see an echo of Jimmy, it’s as if he’s been burned away after hosting an angel for so long.  Cas feels badly about it, and says it’s just one more thing he’s stuck here atoning for.  Being freed from the angel Naomi’s control put everything in perspective for him finally.  Being brought back to life again and again had to be a message from God that he needed to stay here and learn something new before he can move on. 

“Just like Buddha huh Cas?” teases Sam. 

“Yes, exactly.  From what I know of Buddha’s teachings, that’s what I’m meant to work on.” 

“You want to borrow some books about it Cas? I’ve got quite a few you won’t find in the regular bookstore or library.” Offers Sam. 

“Yes Sam that would be quite helpful.” 

No one knows if Cas and Meg can ever die or not, they don’t seem to be aging at all, not like Sam and Dean as Meg so nicely points out.  She’s pretty happy (for a demon), no Crowley to worry about, the only cause to serve is having fun exploring the world with Cas.  Both brothers can see that the two of them make a good team, and are happy to see their friend so happy. Luckily Meg quickly gets over her glee at teasing the brothers for their renewed relationship. She claims that she always figured they’d gone there based on what she saw inside Sam. They claim one of the second floor corner bedrooms to use when they come visit.  The things they decorate the room with crack Sam and Dean up, but apparently you can’t teach decorating sense or taste to a former angel and demon. 

Whenever Cas and Meg around, the house feels different, so small and confining, almost like they’re back in the motel rooms they grew up in, hearing other’s voices close, the creaking of other beds in the night, the extra footsteps and plumbing noises.  But it’s never for long, they’ve not overstayed their welcome yet. Thankfully.  They’re both still full of a wanderlust that Sam and Dean sometimes wish they still had.  But not really. Not when they have a home like Trelawny.

~@~!~@~!~

Kevin’s another matter, after the whole tablet interpreting thing where he almost killed himself trying to get it all done before anyone found him, he needed time to recuperate and figure out what sort of life a young Prophet of the Lord could make for himself.  He first tried going back to live with his mom of course. She was so thrilled that he’d gotten rid of the demons and come out of the whole thing alive and whole.  But it didn’t work, being with his mom, she was too much, too in his face, falling back into telling him how to manage every part of his life and after what he’d accomplished, pretty much on his own. Well, it just didn’t sit right with him.  He wanted to be respectful of course, she’d given up so much for him to be safe, but there wasn’t a good way for them to live together. 

Kevin was talking about his whole complicated situation to Sam on the phone one day, they’d recently moved back to their old town, and he was trying to work up the enthusiasm to sign up for community college.  Sam interrupted his complaining and said “Kevin, we’d love to see you, come visit us.  Give your mom a break for a while. We’ve got so much room in this place, it’s ridiculous, and Dean’s learned to cook.”

Kevin’s taken aback for a second, not expecting such a generous or unexpected offer, “Uh, really? Stay with you guys all the way up there in Vermont?”

“Yeah, seriously, get your ass up here.  It’s spring and the snow’s pretty much gone.”

“Alright, I guess I could take a bus up there or something.”

“Yeah, that’d work.  The Greyhound terminal in Stowe isn’t too far from our town, give us a heads up and we’ll come pick you up from the station.”

Sam briefly considers that Kevin may or may not approve of his and Dean’s relationship, but he figures it’s worth a shot, them trying to be honest with the few remaining people beyond the townspeople, who actually know them in the world is something they ought to at least try.  _Hopefully Dean won’t have a problem with_ it he thinks to himself, _but maybe I should have asked him first_.

“Shit Sam! You should have asked me first!” Dean hollers as he knocks over the almost full beer he was drinking at the kitchen table.

Sam throws him a towel to clean up with, “I’m sorry, it just kind of blurted out of me before I thought it through.  Don’t you want to see him though?”

“Of course I do, but how are we going to explain everything?  What, are you going to move into another bedroom while he’s here and we just pretend we’re not together or something?” Dean yells.

Sam bitchfaces at the thought “Why would I be the one moving into a different room? And how about we’re just honest with him? Ever thought of that? Or are you too ashamed of us to even try?” Sam yells in return.

“No! Of course not, it’s just…I’m…well I don’t want him to hurt you.  How are you going to deal if one of our only friends is too disgusted to even call us a friend anymore?” Dean answers more quietly.

“Thanks for looking out for my feelings, but I’m pretty sure that Kevin wouldn’t do that. Besides Cas and Meg and the people we know in town are fine with it.” Sam asserts.

“Seems like a big risk is all.”

“Dean we’ve got to put ourselves out there at some point.  We only know a few people in this world, who really know our story. I can pretty much count them on one hand at this point.  And I don’t know about you, but I’m feeling the need to be truthful with the people we still call friends.  Have you ever considered they might be happy for us?”

Dean’s struck silent by that, because no, of course he’d never thought of that.  Thanks to Mrs. C, Celeste and Susan were totally cool with it.  Cas and Meg had teased them mercilessly about getting back together, but then they’d stopped and seemed kind of chill about it all.  And maybe there had been that conversation with Cas about how he was glad to see Dean and Sam happy at last, that they’d deserved it after everything they’d done for the world and that soul mates were supposed to be together, blah, blah, blah.  He’d blown that off of course as being a general glad you’re happy kind of thing, but Cas always was hard to understand, and he always did see the deeper meanings behind everything. 

“You’re right Sammy, I hadn’t thought about it enough. I’m in.”

“Good.” Sam says,

~@~!~@~!~


	6. Chapter 6

Kevin calls them up a couple weeks later, when they’re down at the riverbank fishing and having a little lunch. (Don’t call it a picnic though, Dean had insisted). Sam puts his cell on speakerphone, and Kevin tells them he’s arriving in two days, giving Dean not a lot of time to stress and worry and try and hide it from Sam.  Dean’s most worried about how the potential rejection will affect Sam, that it might make him question what they’re doing, maybe want to go really find normal somewhere else instead of sticking with what they’ve got.

“Dean, I wish you’d quit worrying about it, you’re driving me crazy.” Sam says, throwing his re-baited hook out into the river.

“Can’t help it, ‘m sorry.”

“Is it something else, besides just Kevin finding out about us?  Because I swear to you, I’m going to be fine either way.” Sam asks, too perceptive for his own good like usual.

Dean’s been hiding this fear for a while, holding onto it like the last rung of the ladder in the deep end.  Letting go of it isn’t going to be easy, but he knows he needs to if Sam’s picking up on it like this, “Yeah, there is. I’m worried that he’s going to hurt you.”

“Yeah I know that already, we talked about that before.  There’s something else.  Wait, are you worried that if Kevin rejects us that I’m going to think he’s right or something?”

Dean ducks his head down, found out like always, “Yeah, I guess.”

“I can’t believe you sometimes Dean! How many times have I gone over this with you? You listen to me now and you listen good, because I’m not saying it again: I love you, I want to be with you, I don’t want anything else, You are what I want, not “normal” or whatever shit you’re going to come up with.  This, right here, you and me, it’s everything.”

“Sammy I know.”

“No, Dean, you don’t, not if you’re still worrying that what someone says or thinks about us is going to be enough to get me to leave you.  I can’t even conceive of it okay?  And I don’t want to. Period. End. Of. Story.” Sam finishes up emphatically.

“I’m sorry.” Dean says quietly, searching Sam’s face to see if he understands.

“I know you are.  And I know that a big part of this is believing you’re not worthy, but I can’t fix that for you Dean.  Lord knows I’ve tried.  You’ve got me, you’ve got us, it’s up to you to figure out how to believe it.”

“I’ll keep trying.  Don’t give up on me okay?” Dean asks.

“You don’t make it easy, but I never have, never will.” Sam says with a firmness that is tangible.

That glimpse of stubbornness, gives Dean a sudden flash of a long-ago Sam, in Bobby’s old panic room, sitting on the desk talking to him about how Cas and Bobby don’t think it’s a good idea, but Sam’s decided he’s bringing Dean with them to try and get Adam out of the angel’s Beautiful Room.  He remembers that now so clearly, how Sam had never given up faith in him even though he’d given him so many reasons to, and more importantly that faith was why he was able to kill Zachariah, and resist becoming Michael’s vessel.  He remembers how it felt, deep inside, knowing that Sam believed in him made everything possible again.

“Sammy.” He chokes out, overwhelmed with the memories, not able to stop the flood of emotion, but he can’t express it with words, only his body like always.  He pulls Sam to him roughly, kissing him so fiercely and suddenly.

Sam pulls back gasping for air, “Dean, what’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, just want to show you.”

He pulls Sam back down until their lips touch briefly, Sam immediately opening up for Dean’s exploration. Dean wonders, _is there something else he could do to show Sam what he means?_ ”Want you Sam.”

“What here?”

“Yeah, I need you. Need you in me now.” Dean answers with urgency.

Sam’s look of surprise pleases Dean.  Because they haven’t switched in a long time, and usually it means something big is happening with Dean.  Sam’s eyes widen and he looks very satisfied with himself all of a sudden, “I’m sure that could be arranged.  We got anything?”

“Just this.” Dean reaches into the fishing hamper and pulls out the Vaseline they use to coat the hooks so they don’t rust after they’re done using them.  He hands it to Sam, waggling his eyebrows. Dean lays back on the wool blanket and starts undoing his pants.

“Let me.” Growls Sam, suddenly moving to straddle him.

Sam takes over then, removing all of their clothing, running his hands all over Dean possessively.  Finally opening Dean up with Vaseline slicked fingers.  Dean’s in awe of him, of his brother, his lover, towering over him with such steady power and grace.  He can’t stop smiling at Sam, it’s like his heart is overflowing with that remembrance of Sam’s steadfast belief in him.  When Sam finally enters him, it’s like that memory is on constant replay, in addition to all the physical sensation of being taken by such a skillful lover.

Dean can’t help it, when Sam’s gotten him here to this place, finally letting go, releasing it all.  Feeling filled up, completed and perfected somehow just by their joining.  He can’t help unclenching the last little bit of his heart to let in the hope that Sam meant what he said.  Letting himself hope that, much less accept it isn’t something Dean ever thought he could do.  But when Sam’s got him like this, it seems possible, like he could almost get there.  He just needs to relax the hold he’s got on that last shred of self-protection, cutting it off and letting his whole heart fall into Sam’s waiting open hands.

Sam sees all this emotion passing over Dean’s face as he thrusts into him, can feel Dean’s body surrendering like it never does for anything or anyone else.  There’s got to be something there that Dean’s telling him with his body.  He can’t pull the words out of Dean, he knows that, but at least he gets this;  his brother tight and hot around him, letting him in, deep inside, making him feel like he’s the one protecting instead of the one being protected. 

Dean can’t say anything, he’s barely conscious of Sam moving in and through him.  There’s nothing better than this, why doesn’t he do this more often with Sam?  Let him take over like this.  He’s awash in the sensations and the emotions they’re bringing up.  Nobody has ever made him feel like this.  So much, or so deeply.  Sam’s everything, all, everything.

Sam hears Dean as he faintly says “everything, yours, all, nobody, everything.” and then Dean’s coming hard on him, clenching down so firmly that Sam can barely even move, feeling the shakes and pulses from Dean’s body going through in waves.  The words that he heard and the feeling of Dean’s orgasm gives him brings him off too, letting go so deep inside Dean, filling him.  Sam catches himself from slumping down on Dean in a boneless heap, but just barely. 

Dean hasn’t moved or said anything, his cock is still a little hard, and so Sam strokes it gently, coaxing a little more come to blurt out.  Dean moans brokenly, “Done, I’m done Sammy.”

“Okay, okay, I got you.”

“No.” Dean says in a hurt voice.

“Dean, you okay?” Sam asks, worried that he’s hurt his brother somehow.

“No.  Yes.  I think so.”

Sam pulls out as gently as he can manage, flopping down next to Dean and nuzzling into his shoulder.  “That was a nice surprise, thanks.”

“Yeah, uh, we should do it like that more often.  I know I always say that.  But really. I’d like to if that’s okay with you?”

Sam looks at him more closely, something’s changed in his brother, but he doesn’t want to push and ruin the afterglow, “Yeah, sure, I wouldn’t mind switching it up a little more than normal.”

“Good.  Sleeping now.” Dean mumbles, drifting off to sleep, knowing that he’s safe with Sam next to him.

Sam looks at his now sleeping brother, wondering what is really going on in his head.  Their discussion about Dean still being worried about him leaving is replaying in Sam’s mind.  The sex, this kind of sex must have been Dean’s answer for what he couldn’t bring himself to say out loud.  If there’s one thing he’s always known about his brother is that Dean communicates much better with his body  He lays down, snuggled up next to Dean in the afternoon sun, just listening to his brother’s slow breathing and the sounds of the river, feeling the breeze on his naked skin.  It’d be so easy to drift off just like Dean has, but he needs to be on alert, Dean having given up the protector role for just this small time.  He props himself up on one elbow, surveying the area, as their father taught them, methodically checking all quadrants, using all his senses.  No threat detected.  He grabs one of the napkins out of the picnic basket and wipes himself off before leaning over to clean up Dean too.  It’s always better not to hear Dean bitching about how itchy dried come is. 

Dean mumbles a little and then resettles, Sam can’t make out the words this time, but he thinks he heard _everything_ again.  Why does Dean keep saying _everything_? He’s almost drowsing off again when he feels Dean waking up a little next to him and asks quietly before he can stop himself, “What’s everything Dean?”

And it isn’t at all fair, Dean’s in that in-between haze of floating satisfaction, bliss, sleep and wakefulness so he answers, “you are.”

He hears Sam’s indrawn breath of surprise and squints up at him, groaning.  “Not fair bitch, asking me questions at a time like this.”

“Gotta get them answered somehow don’t I?”

“Yeah, yeah take it where you can get it I guess.” Dean grumbles, smiling anyways.

He’s not going to fuss about it, Sam knows that anyways, shouldn’t be new information or anything.  But when they walk up from the river, Sam takes his hand and he doesn’t let go.  Not like anyone’s going to see them, and besides they were just naked and fucking on the riverbank just a few minutes ago. 

“You are too.” Sam says, not elaborating further.  And it’s not necessary, Dean knows.  He might not believe it, actions being what he prizes as reality, not people’s thoughts or intentions. He just squeezes Sam’s hand a little tighter in his in silent answer.

~@~!~@~!~

 

Dean picks Kevin up from the bus stop, and drives them back up to the house, telling him the shortened version about how they acquired it, Kevin’s interested, but he’s most interested in how different Dean is, how relaxed and even happy he seems while he tells the tale.

“Dean, you seem really happy, you must like it out here.”

“Yeah, I do.  There’s been a lot of changes for us, but Sam and I are happy together.”

“Wait, like _together_ together?” Kevin stammers out, flushing a beet red at asking such a rude question of his friend.

“Yeah, you gotta problem with that I’d like to deal with it before we get to the house.” Dean says shortly, his emotionless hard face gone suddenly fierce.

“No, no problem.  Of course not.  I already knew that you were together Dean, I’m a prophet remember, the Winchester Gospels are not writing themselves. I just didn’t know if you’d ever say anything to me. That’s all.”

“You mean, the whole downloading our story thing is still happening? Like it did with Chuck?”

“Yeah, it’s been going on the whole time.  I just didn’t really understand it at first, why I knew everything about you two, and how I was compelled to write down all the new stuff, all the time, even when I didn’t see you.  And then I was mostly concentrating on the tablets, I’m sorry, I should have said something.  I just assumed we weren’t saying it out loud, to be polite or whatever.”

“Uh, yeah.  Okay.  Don’t be sorry, Kevin, I know it’s not like you wanted to be Prophet so you could spy on us or anything.  Well, Sam’s going to be just as surprised as I am I bet.”

“He won’t be mad will he?”

“Naw, he was going on about how we had to be honest with our friends, so he’ll be glad it’s not an issue.  I mean it’s not right?  Just because you know our story doesn’t mean you’d really understand why we’re, uh, like we are.”

“Dean, I know this will be hard to hear, but I’m just gonna say it straight out.  Understanding your story so completely like I do, I can’t see any other way you two could be.  Honestly, it’s the most beautiful, moving love story I’ve ever read in my life, and I’ve read a lot of books.”

Dean hesitates, it’s his turn to flush with embarrassment, “I uh, don’t know what to say.  But thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Hey. Would you mind telling Sam that? What you just said.”

“Sure, of course, he need to hear it too?” Kevin asks.

Dean nods and smiles slowly, “Yeah, I’m pretty sure he does.”

They ride the rest of the short drive in silence, pulling up through the forested drive until it opens up at the beginning of the meadow.  The house comes into view, up on the hill, and just like always whenever he sees it, Dean gets this happy, excited, ball of joy forming somewhere deep inside.  Because Sam’s there, in their home.  “Here it is.” Dean says proudly, getting out of the Impala where he’s stopped at the front of the house.

Kevin gets out and looks awestruck at the huge size of the place, “Wow, this is even better in person than I’d imagined it from the visions.”

“Oh yeah, of course, you’ve seen it.  And you let me tell you that whole story too.  Just tell me to shut up wouldja, I don’t want to go over stuff you already know and bore you to death.”  Dean says, holding the back of his neck with one hand in embarrassment.

“No, no it’s okay, I like hearing the way you tell it Dean, it’s better than I’ve managed when I write it down.  You’re a great storyteller.” Kevin answers, smiling wide and bright at his friend’s embarrassment as being complimented.

“Enough of that, let’s go see where Sam is hiding.”

The front door opens and Sam steps out, grinning widely at both of them, he gathers Kevin up in a welcome hug and pats him on the back, “Kevin, so great to see you!  You’re looking well.”

“Uh, you too Sam” stammers Kevin, a little overwhelmed at the sheer size of Sam Winchester enveloping him in a bear hug like that, he’d forgotten how freaking big the guy is.

Sam steps back from Kevin, putting himself closer to Dean, within touching distance like they usually are, but not greeting him like he normally would.  Dean laughs and pulls him in for a hug and kisses his cheek.  Sam goes a little red and tries really hard not to shrug off Dean’s arms, he didn’t think they were going to tell Kevin right away and the sudden PDA is surprising.

“Relax Sammy, he knows.  Everything.  He’s just like Chuck remember?”

“Oh. Ohhhh. God, I never thought of you…oh… I’m uh sorry Kevin that you have to, well, uh..” Sam trails off, at a loss for words, because while he’s not sorry about his life and what he’s done, he is sorry that someone he considers a friend has to know every little detail of it, bare asses and all.

“Hey, it’s cool.  I’m used to it now, and like I was telling Dean in the car, I feel privileged to get to see the Winchester story so completely, it’s the most beautiful, moving love story I’ve ever read. It’s an honor to get to write it.  And when the world reads it eventually, they’ll agree with me.”

Sam’s not sure what to say, so he buries his face in Dean’s neck to hide, feeling like he’s about a second away from just bursting into tears.  Because he’s always felt this, known it so surely, having lived it his whole life.  That what he and Dean have is no ordinary thing, it’s something completely unique.  And here’s The Prophet of the Lord standing on their front porch confirming it all.  He lets himself cry a little into Dean’s shirt while Dean holds him close, soothing his hands on Sam’s back.  Finally he straightens up and looks down into Dean’s concerned face and sees that Dean knows exactly what he’s thinking, sees the unshed tears glinting in Dean’s eyes.  He moves his hands up to hold Dean’s face gently, and says “told you so.”

Dean bursts out laughing, his tears finally getting a chance to fall too and pulls Sam down to kiss him. Laughing into his brother’s mouth, sharing this joy with him, finally knowing that they’ve been right about each other all along.

Kevin clears his throat and shifts from foot to foot, “So, uh, I’m just gonna go inside and use the facilities, long bus ride you know?”  He disappears into the house.

Sam moves to follow him, but Dean pulls him back into his arms, Sam protests, “But Dean, we’re being bad hosts.”

“Sam, believe me, Kevin understands.  And I do too now.” Dean says, knowing Sam gets what he means.

“’bout time” Sam says smiling down at him.

~!~!~

 “Thanks Jody, that’s great, we’ll see you soon then.”  Dean hangs up his cell as he’s walking back into the kitchen from outside.  Whoops, there’s Sam eating his lunch at the enormous table, and he’s likely heard that whole conversation.

“Were you talking to Jody? How’s she doing?”  Sam asks after he’s done chewing his bite of sandwich.

Dean sits down at the table across from Sam, trying to act as nonchalant as possible, hoping Sam didn’t hear the whole conversation.  “Uh, yeah, she’s doing great.  Thinking of coming for a visit. Pretty soon maybe.”

“Wow, really?  It’ll be so great to see her, it’s been way too long.”  Sam looks really excited by the idea, he had truly bonded with her when she’d helped him bring Dean back to the right time.

“I was telling her you’d be psyched if she visited.  Glad I wasn’t lyin’.” Dean grins at Sam across the table, hoping that he’s off the hook from elaborating, it all depends on whether the Sam Detector is on full-alert or not.

“What were you thanking her for?”

_Crap. Crap. Crap._ Dean thinks to himself, but says out loud, “Oh, she was looking into something for me, using her sheriff-mojo you know.”

“No I don’t, are you working on a case that I don’t know about?”

“Uh, no, nothin’ like that, just something that I asked her to do, you’ll see when she gets here, okay. Just drop it Sam.”

“Alright, alright, no spoiling surprises, I get it.  But now I’m curious.” Sam says, finishing the last bite of his sandwich and pushing the plate away.

“Yeah and I know exactly what you’re like when you’re curious.” Dean teases with a raised eyebrow.

Sam tilts his head, examining his brother, trying to see if he means it or not, “How’s that?”

“Sneaky, you’re uh…sneaky.” Dean says, and then looks away quickly, he can’t meet Sam’s gaze for much longer.

Sam stands up slowly, eyes never leaving Dean’s face, like he’s working on cornering a scared rabbit, “Uh huh, what else?”

“Underhanded.” Dean says, wide-eyed and a little frozen at Sam’s slow, stalking approach.

“Same thing, what else?” Sam asks, slowly coming a little closer.

“Uh, persistent, way too persistent.” Dean says, mouth going dry as his brother moves to trap him.

“Always, anything more?” Sam asks as he firmly puts his hands on the table edge on either side of Dean, boxing him in, looming over him.

“Yeah, annoying!” Dean shoves up at Sam’s chest.

Sam’s face crinkles up into a grin and he leans down and kisses Dean until he relaxes and has his arms around Sam’s neck.  Sam finally pulls away from the kiss to say, “Fine, I’ll try not to annoy you too much, but no promises.  When’s she thinking of visiting?”

“Early next week, I think she said Monday.” Dean answers, still a little dazed from being stalked and kissed breathless by his brother, relieved that he seems to have forgotten the surprise thing he’s supposed to be curious about.

“Wow, that soon?” Sam says, standing up quickly, breaking Dean’s embrace and moving back to his side of the table.

“Yeah, you got plans or something?  Seems like we’ll have enough room to put her up unless you’ve invited the Harlem Globetrotters over again.” Dean watches his brother carefully, because he can tell something’s up.

“Ha, ha.  No, no plans.  But how is she going to . . . you know? Well, aren’t you worried about what she’ll say Dean?  When she sees us together like this?” Sam asks as he takes his plate over to the sink, back turned to Dean.

Dean gets up from his chair and is at Sam’s side in a moment, bumping his hip companionably, “Thought we worked this out already Sam.  With the whole Kevin thing, remember?  Oh, is he still going to be here next week?  I kinda promised Jody that she’d get to see him again.”

“Yeah, he’s enjoying it here.  We were even talking about University of Vermont.” Sam says, quickly looking over at Dean to gauge his reaction.

“What, for you?” Dean asks quickly, unable to hide the strong reaction he’s feeling.  Just the idea of Sam and college reminds him of all that Sam’s had to give up to live this life with him.

Sam pats him on the shoulder, knowing how mentioning college still upsets Dean, “No, him.  And also the plan of him maybe living here.”

“With us?”  Dean asks, surprised that Sam’s made an offer like this without talking to him first.

Sam shrugs, “Yeah, why not? It’s only twenty miles away. He’d mostly be at school, or studying.”

“I’ll think about it okay?”

“Huh, I thought you’d be all over the idea.” Sam says, a little worried at Dean’s hesitant reaction.

“No, it’s not that I don’t like it, just, seems a bit like...” Dean trails off without finishing his thought, not looking at Sam.

“A bit like what?”

“Like a family or something.” Dean practically whispers, as if he’s worried something will happen just by saying the word out loud.

“Yeah, I guess.  Not as if it would be permanent or anything. But yeah, maybe family is what it would be like.  Thought that was what you wanted Dean?” Sam asks softly, rubbing his hand on Dean’s forearm.

“Never thought it’d really be anybody but just you and me here.  Just let me get used to the idea, okay?”

“Okay, sure.” Sam says, knowing that this of course means a yes will be coming from Dean shortly.

“Which room do you think she’d like?” Dean asks, trying to change the subject as he’s still absorbing the whole idea of having Kevin around maybe permanently.

“One of the ones near Kevin’s.  I can’t remember which ones have been really cleaned.  Kevin says he likes his window-seat, that he’s always wanted one.  He’s always sitting in it reading.”

“No wonder he wants to stick around.” Dean muses, although he’s happy that they’ve made their friend happy so easily.

“Yeah and your great welcoming company too apparently.” Sam teases.

“Shut up.” Dean hits Sam’s chest with the back of his hand. “Let’s go look at the rooms and see if we have a lot to do to get one ready for Jody or not.”

Dean follows Sam up the back kitchen stairs towards the second floor, not able to resist that perfect ass right in front of his face, he pushes his hands up to feel the flexing muscles as Sam ascends the stairs. 

“What? Are you goose-ing me on the stairs now?” Sam asks, a funny quaver in his voice.

“So? You love it. Don’t deny it.” Dean says, loving that he’s gotten to Sam so easily.

Sam stops near the second floor landing on the narrow staircase and turns to look back down at Dean.  His brother’s got that reckless twinkle in his eyes that says Sam can have anything, anywhere, anytime.  He leans down and pulls Dean up a step so he’s in his space, and kisses him deeply.  Sam’s mind races with images of taking Dean on the stairs, but Kevin’s here, so that’s a no.  “Let go up to our room first.” Sam says, voice a little thickened with the sudden desire. 

Dean shakes his head and steps back down one step, looking up at Sam, he silently undoes Sam’s belt-buckle and the top of his jeans, pulling the zipper down slowly.  Sam’s almost gasping with the flood of want and heat that hits him as Dean strokes him through his boxers.  Dean pulls him out and Sam groans, it almost hurts, he’s gotten so hard so fast. 

Without a word Dean leans in and takes him into his mouth, sucking and licking at the perfect height and angle for it. Sam barely manages to think, w _hy have they never tried this on the stairs before?_   Sam holds onto the railing with one hand and the back of Dean’s head with the other, pulsing his hips forward with as much control as he can muster. 

So far they’re not making a lot of noise, but there’s a thrill of the possibility of discovery that Sam’s almost ashamed to discover he feels.    Sam’s panting hard now, Dean taking him in all the way, nose buried in his short curly hair on every bob down, inhaling him deeply.  Sam can feel the back of Dean’s throat against his tip, the softness and give unlike anything else, along with the pressure of the suction and Dean’s hand rolling his balls gently tugging and pulling, fingers exploring between his cheeks to his hole.  Just that one touch is all it takes, Sam goes off, exploding down Dean’s throat in a gush. Knees bending under the weight of that overwhelming feeling of passion’s final result. 

Sam opens his eyes to see his brother looking up at him and stroking at his own crotch through his jeans. Dean’s eyes still have that you-can-have-anything twinkle and Sam wants that, but not on the stairs.  “Come on, let’s go up to our room.”

Gingerly tucking himself back in, Sam continues up to the third floor, which they’ve converted into their master suite, Dean following behind him with his hands planted firmly back on the globes of Sam’s ass. 

“I could follow you up the stairs all day Sammy.” Dean says with a voice a little hoarse from his recent efforts.

That voice kills Sam, the thought that his cock, was deep in there and changed his brother’s voice to this gravelly growl, almost makes him change his mind about not finishing up on the stairs right here.  “Come on hurry up, get in here.” Sam answers, barely able to speak normally, he’s so turned on. 

They get into the sitting room of their suite and close the door, neither sure if they’ll make it to the bed or not.  Sam pushes Dean up against the door roughly and takes his mouth over again, kissing him quickly and hard, licking the taste of himself out of all the corners of Dean’s mouth.  Dean sags against the door, so Sam takes advantage, undoing his jeans and pulling them down as he sinks to his knees on the floor.  Sam returns the favor Dean just did on the stairs and gets to work right away, sucking Dean in as far as possible and beginning a steady rhythm of bobbing up and down holding the backs of Dean’s thighs in each hand so that Dean can hardly move. 

Dean’s hands find the top of Sam’s head though and anchor themselves in his hair, twining and pulling and pushing.  “Sam, don’t you wanna?” Dean breathes out.

Sam pulls off and looks up at him with hooded eyes, “Yeah I do, but this first.”  Dean gulps and nods, when Sam gets so insistent like this, it’s like being overridden by a tidal wave, no point in even holding on, he lets himself get swept away in Sam’s path.  Sam finishes him off with two fingers in Dean’s ass pumping in and out and taking him as deeply down his throat as possible.  Dean can’t help but cry out in surprise when his orgasm hits him.  He feels drained and only manages to stay standing because of Sam’s bulk propping him against the door. 

“Can I get my shoes off for the next one at least?” he teases, breathless with coming so hard.  Sam chuckles and unties Dean’s boots since he’s down there, helping take each one off.  Dean steps out of his jeans and boxers and pulls Sam back up to standing, holding his body tightly against his own.

 Sam feels a little ashamed now for having been so rough, “You okay?” he asks, holding Dean’s face in his huge hands. 

Dean nods, not able to come up with any smart comebacks because he sees the concern in Sam’s eyes, “Yeah, of course I’m fine.”

“I just worry that I’m too rough sometimes.  I don’t ever want to hurt you.”

“Well you don’t need to worry, I trust you.”

“It’s so good like this Dean.  Being so impulsive and going for it wherever and whenever we want.”

“Yeah, that’s one thing to consider about having Kevin live with us. We’ll have to limit ourselves.”

“Can I confess something?” Sam asks hesitantly as they walk through the sitting room into their bedroom.

“Sure of course.”

“I kinda got turned on by the idea of him catching us on the stairs.”

“Oh Sammy you bad boy you.” Dean swats at Sam’s ass.

“Shut up. Not like I want him to watch us or anything like that.  Just the idea of…”

“I get it, just the idea of getting caught.  That’s cool, I feel that sometimes when Cas and Meg are staying here too.  I don’t want them sitting there watching or anything, but yeah it’s a turn on, the idea of someone catching us like that.”

“Okay, good.  Glad I said it then.”  Sam says, pleased that they’re thinking so similarly on this potentially touchy subject.

“So no crazy sex orgies with Jody and Kevin and Cas and Meg huh?” Dean teases.

Sam slugs him in the shoulder, hard, “Uh no. Not on my list.”

Dean squeezes his hand pulling him towards their bed, “Good, me either. You’re more than enough for me.  So you said something earlier about something else besides just a blow job.”

“Not satisfied huh?”

“Never.”

“We’ll just see about that then.”  Sam pulls Dean’s shirt off and pushes him down onto their bed.  He stands up and takes off his clothes slowly, loving how Dean’s eyes never leave his body.  The desire and heat flickering as he reveals more and more skin.  Dean’s got a little while before he’ll be hard enough again, but until then Sam’s going to tease him mercilessly.

~!@~!@~!@


	7. Chapter 7

They awake to the sound of knocking at their room’s main door and they hear Kevin’s muffled voice.  “Sam, Dean?  There’s someone here to see you.” 

Dean gets up and stumbles to the door, grabbing a blanket to wrap around himself, he opens the door a crack and peers through, “Who’s here?”

Kevin flushes as he sees Dean’s undressed and very mussed state, “Sorry, but he insisted.”

“No worries man, who is it?”

“Some skinny guy, you better come see.” Kevin says with a mischievous grin.

“Sam too?”

“Yeah, sorry.”  Kevin says, turning to leave.

“Dude, it’s okay, we’ll be right down.”  Dean answers and shuts the door.

Sam’s heard all this, so he gets up reluctantly and they both pull on their clothes.  Not much time to really clean up more than that.  “Freshly-fucked is a good look on you, don’t worry.” Sam says, looking Dean up and down.

“Very funny, move your ass.” Dean swats at him but misses as Sam scoots down an extra step as they head down the main stairs.

“Good thing we’re going downstairs this time.” Sam grins back up at him saucily.

Then they hear it, that hee-haw laugh. Both stop in their tracks and look at each other.  “Did you tell him where we lived?” they ask simultaneously.

“Nope.” Dean says, shrugging.

“Huh. Me either.  Guess he’s gotten better.”  Sam answers, returning the shrug.

They round the final staircase corner where they can see into the entryway, and there he is, a tall skinny guy in an enormous cowboy hat standing in the doorway laughing with Kevin.

“Garth! Hey!” Says Sam, approaching with hand outstretched.  Garth shakes and then pulls him into a big hug.  Dean knows he’s next and submits to being hugged, even giving back a small one at the last second. Knowing Garth has gotten him used to receiving random hugs from people other than Sam.

“What a surprise this is, we’re glad you found us.”  Sam says.

“Didn’t take too long, once I talked to Kevin here.”  Garth answers, poking a thumb over at Kevin.

Dean asks Kevin quietly, but loud enough for Sam to hear, “Kevin did you?”

“No, I swear Dean, I didn’t tell him.” Kevin says, hoping that he’s not really in trouble.  Sam hits Dean between the shoulder blades to get him to cut it out, so Kevin knows he’s okay.

“Well, he gave me enough clues to figure it out.  But I was in the neighborhood and thought I’d come check this place out.  It’s amazing, you really lucked out.” Garth says, peering around them into the rest of the hallway.

“Whoops, sorry, we’re still not used to this having a house thing. So come on in then, make yourself welcome and all that.” Sam laughs at himself for apologizing like this, but it is funny, because he and Dean really have no clue what they’re doing with this whole house guest etiquette.  Dean rolls his eyes and motions Garth into the living room.

They all sit down, Garth and Kevin in big easy chairs, Sam and Dean on the couch, “So what brings you up this way Garth?” Dean asks, hands clasped between his legs and leaning forward, interested for some new tales of the hunt.

“Just took care of a haunting in New York, just over the border.  Went pretty well, only had to burn down one of the rooms.” Garth drawls.

”What?” Kevin asks in a shocked voice.

“Well, it was one of those blood-drenched floorboards cases.  I handled it though, only had to take out the kitchen.  The homeowners were happy, they were going to do a kitchen remodel anyways.”

“Guess that worked out then.” Dean says, trying not to laugh out loud.

“You two are looking well, and you Kevin, you look like you’ve recovered a whole lot.”  Garth says, looking at all them in his friendly, open manner that sets everyone at ease and even after all this time still gets on Dean’s nerves just a little bit.

“We’ve been kicking back here for a few months now.  Kevin just got here this week.” Sam says, pointing over at Kevin.

“My mom and I tried living together again, but we weren’t able to make it happen.” Kevin says, sounding pretty sad.

“Too bad, I know she probably misses you a lot buddy.” Garth says, leaning over and clamping a hand over Kevin’s knee.

“I guess, it got pretty heated there for a while.  It’s probably good we’re having a break. I’m really grateful that Sam and Dean are letting me stay here.” Kevin says looking over at them with a thankful look.

“So what about you two? Hunting anymore?” Garth asks, looking over at Sam and Dean unconsciously snuggled up next to one another on the couch.

“We’ve done a few ghost hunts around here locally, but we’re taking a breather for a while.  Sam’s set up an online business selling antiquarian books. And I’m doing training to be an EMT.” Dean answers, looking at Sam with naked pride on his face.

“Far as I’m concerned, you guys deserve it, everything, the time off, this house.  I’m glad you made it here together.  It’s good to see my friends end up so happy.”

“You are a mushy son-of-a-bitch aren’t you?” Dean says, laughing.

“Yeah well, being around you two, it’s kind of hard not to be.” Garth says laughing his delighted hee-haw laugh again.  Kevin joins in, because he knows exactly what Garth’s talking about.

Sam and Dean look at each other and raise their eyebrows slightly in silent question.  Dean asks, “How do you mean Garth?”

“Well, I mean, I haven’t been around two people so in love since way back when I lived with my parents.  It’s cool though man.  Like I said, I’m happy that my friends are happy.” Garth says with a big grin.

“Thanks Garth, glad we could make you happy.” Sam says with relief, that Garth’s accepted them, and that he’s not making a big scene this time like he did with Kevin.

“So you gonna stay with us for a bit Garth, rest up before you get back out there fighting the good fight?  We had a room in mind for Jody who’s coming in a couple of days, but we’ve got other ones upstairs.” Dean asks, with relief that everything’s copasetic for now and that Sam’s not doing an instant replay of his earlier reaction with Kevin.

“Yeah, just for a few days if you don’t mind.” Garth answers, looking happy to be invited.

“Hey, the more the merrier, why not? I’ll go look.” Sam says, throwing up his hands just to be extra dramatic and heading upstairs to figure out which room makes the most sense to stick Garth in.  They’ve got the one next to Kevin ready for Jody, so that leaves the three across the hall.  One of which has bed linens that have at least been washed, so that’s the one he picks.  He makes sure that there’s not too much extra stuff in the room and plugs one of the lamps in next to the bed and opens up the window for some fresh air.  Sounds of laughter and several people talking all at once filter up the stairs, and he’s cheered by the feeling that there are people in their house, people that they care about, and that really know them and their story.  It’s so different than anything he’s really ever had.  And he likes it.

~!@~!@~!@~!@

A few days later, there’s another knock at the front door, and this time Garth answers since Sam and Dean are once again ensconced in their third floor get-away. They’ve found that ignoring their house-guest’s presence for a while each day is pretty much key to them maintaining their sanity.  Having both Kevin and Garth around is fun, but it’s not the solitary life that they’re used to leading where it’s just them in the car.

“Hey, you’re Charlie right?”  Sam hears Garth exclaim, the sound floating up through the window they’d inadvertently left open this afternoon in all the excitement of finally being in bed together. 

Sam sits bolt upright in bed and thwacks Dean on the ear to get his attention.  “Dean.  Get up.  It sounds like Charlie’s here.”

Dean mumbles into the pillow, _nvrmndgetbackdownhere_.  Sam picks Dean’s head up roughly and pulls up one eyelid, “Dude, wake up.  We have another guest.”

“Alright, but you promised after we napped we were going to switch.”

“Tonight okay?  We can’t be going at it when someone arrives and let our other houseguests take care of them.”

“Why the hell not? They know where everything is by now.  Been here long enough.” Dean grumbles.

“I don’t think I can concentrate.” Sam says.

“You know I can help you with that.” Dean answers, sliding a hand slowly down Sam’s torso, flicking at his nipple.

Sam breathes in sharply at the sensation, “I do.  I know that.”

“You’re just going to put me off tonight, I can hear it now, ‘there’s too many people, I’m embarrassed.’ Or something stupid like that.” Dean complains.

“I won’t, I’m not, oh okay.  Just, we have to be quiet okay, the window’s open.” Sam gives in, Dean’s just irresistible when he’s so insistent like this.

Dean pulls him down and arranges him the way he wants Sam, face down, ass up in the air, he moves behind Sam and bites him hard on the ass cheek until Sam squirms.

“Don’t want anyone seeing this huh, or maybe even hearing us.  Is it just the possibility of someone knowing?  That I’m going down on you right now.  Licking you ‘til you’re so wet and ready I can have my turn fucking you wide open.  There’s nothing you want to say about that huh?” Dean moves his hands up the back of Sam’s thighs, pulling them apart and licking at his balls.

“I can’t.  Oh Dean, no please.” Sam pleads in a breathy whine.

“Please what Sammy?” Dean teases, holding Sam’s ass cheeks apart with both hands, breathing out warm and hot, over Sam’s hole.

“Please, just, c’mon do it.” Sam orders, suddenly on board with the whole thing now that Dean’s about to lick him.  And Dean does, he goes to town on Sam, getting his whole tongue and several fingers inside Sam until Sam’s shaking and begging loudly into his mouthful of pillow.  He kisses Sam’s ass gently one last time as he pulls his fingers out, and flips him over.  Sam goes over bonelessly, just looking up at him in a sweaty daze, face so red from struggling to keep quiet through all the intense pleasure.

“Alright, I’ve gotcha, here you can have these to keep you quiet.”  Dean laughs quietly and feeds him two of his fingers to suck on.  Sam sets to, licking and sucking greedily, making noises all around them as Dean pushes in and starts moving inside him. 

Dean hitches his brother’s legs around his waist a little higher and fucks in harder and harder.  Sam’s noises increase around Dean’s fingers in his mouth, his body opens, taking Dean in further and further.  Dean’s hitting him in the right spot, he can tell how Sam’s eyes are rolling up in his head and his breathing is changing from a quick breath to a pant, like he can’t even control it.  Sam’s hips start to stutter and he arches up off the bed, holding Dean where he still moves in him, steady and deep, the clenching down on Dean is all he can feel, like Sam’s body is trying to take him inside and not ever let go,

“Sammy” he croaks out as he comes, folding over his brother until he’s bent him almost in half.  His hips finally stop moving and Sam makes an unhappy sound because he can’t breathe. 

“Dean, can you get off?”

“Just did.”  Dean says.

Sam shoves him for that crude comment, but he just flops off to the side, pulling Sam in close with an arm around his waist.  “There, that was pretty quiet, see.  Now let’s shower and we’ll go greet our new guest.”

“Dean, why’s Charlie here?” Sam asks as they shower together.

“Oh, I’ve been emailing with her about some of the computer stuff we were talking about doing for your business. Networking, VPN’s, other things like that. Forgot to tell you she might be stopping by.”

“You have any idea what a turn-on it is that you know all this stuff now?” Sam asks, licking his way up Dean’s wet neck to nibble on his ear.

“Ha, I’m just glad it’s working.”  Dean’s so relieved that Sam’s not pursuing being curious about why all their friends are showing up one after another.

“Hey bitches!” Charlie yells as a freshly-showered Sam and Dean make it down the stairs twenty minutes later.  She jumps up from sitting in the living room with Garth and Kevin all of them apparently drinking beer.

“You started drinking without us, no fair!” Exclaims Dean, giving her a hug.

“Hey, I was told we couldn’t disturb your ‘private time’.” Charlie says leering at Dean.

Sam goes red and elbows Dean, but still moving in for a short Charlie hug.

With a laugh, Dean slaps Garth on the shoulder making him quake from the force, “Thanks a lot Garth.”

“No problem-o Dean.” Garth says, saluting Dean with his beer bottle and rubbing at his shoulder.

Sam rolls his eyes and turns back to Charlie, “So Dean tells me you’ve been talking networking stuff for my business?”

“Yeah, I’ll go over all that with you tomorrow okay?  I’m beat from the drive.”

“Oh, you’re staying over?” Sam asks.

“Hells yeah, Dean said it was cool, it is right?” Charlie asks, looking like she hopes she didn’t misunderstand.

“Oh, yeah of course, he just didn’t you know, warn me.  I’ll have to go fix up a room for you.  We’re still working on getting all the rooms in this place cleaned up.” Sam answers looking over her head pointedly at Dean.

“Don’t go to a lot of trouble okay?  I just need a semi-soft place to lie down at night and a plug for my laptop.” Charlie says.

“Well, we’ve definitely got that covered.”   Sam heads off upstairs to figure out which room is closest to a fit state for Charlie.  The one across the hall from Kevin only has a bed but no other furniture.  He drags in some incidental stuff from two of the other rooms they aren’t using, a sitting chair for by the big picture window, a small desk and chair, and a low table and lamp for next to the bed.  They’re almost out of already cleaned linens, so he strips the bed and carries them down the back stairs to the laundry off the kitchen.  Once he gets that going he heads back into the living room, bringing a beer to Dean as well as one for himself.  He hears a lot of what sounds like giggling and someone making shushing sounds as he comes in.

“Hey, where’d you go? “ Asks Dean, accepting the beer gratefully and pulling Sam down next to him, snuggling him in close on the end of the couch.  Sam tries to scoot away, because he doesn’t quite know what has or hasn’t been said to Charlie yet, and Dean’s acting so strange, being so demonstrative in front of all these people.  But Dean doesn’t let him get far, pulling him back in and kissing him quickly near his ear, whispering, “Don’t worry, it’s cool, she knows.”  Sam’s shoulders relax and his face softens at the thought of Dean handling that conversation without his prompting.  So he wraps his hand around Dean’s and settles back, pulling him close and clinking their beers together.

“So Dean says we’re having a barbeque tonight.” Charlie says brightly, smiling at her two friends snuggled up on the other end of the couch together.

Sam answers, “Yeah, Dean’s had a big steak marinating all day and I’ve made a couple sides.  Don’t worry Kevin we’ve got some vegie patties in the freezer.”

“Oh, I’m not vegan anymore, hope there’s enough steak for me.”  Kevin answers smiling broadly.

Dean laughs, “Hah! I was wondering how long you’d last ‘til you broke the news.  Pretty sure we’ve got enough Kev.”

Sam looks fake-mad at Kevin, “You mean I’ve been cooking vegetarian stuff for you all week and you could have eaten anything?”

“Dean told me you’d like a chance to cook healthy stuff for a change.” Kevin protests, not really sure if Sam’s pissed at him or not.

Sam thwacks Dean on the neck with his fingers sharply, “Cute Dean, real cute.”

“Well you did didn’t you?” Dean mock protests, rubbing at his neck, grinning that Sam’s gotten good at taking this teasing from their friends.

“Yeah I did, it was nice cooking healthy stuff for someone who’d actually appreciate it!”  Sam says, grinning in mock-outrage.

The room busts up into laughter, everyone catching onto the brother’s fake fighting, because it’s pretty much just plain adorable.  Sam goes quiet then and looks around the room, letting the conversation flow around him, Garth and Kevin and Charlie all here, and Jody on her way.  All they need is for Cas and Meg to show up and they’ll have all their friends under one roof.  Kind of amazing.

~!@~!@~!@~!@

Kevin finds Sam out in the garden the next day, planting out the herb starts he’d bought at the garden center yesterday when they were showing Garth around their new town.  “Hey Sam?”

“Yeah, hi Kevin, what’s up?” Sam looks up shading his eyes against the bright sun.

Kevin sits down across the dirt path from Sam to make it easier on them both, “Uh, I just got off the phone with my mom.  She wants to come visit me.  Something about wanting to make sure those Winchesters didn’t have me tied up in a sex torture dungeon again.”

“What have you told her exactly?” Sam asks, only half joking.

“I was just kidding.  Remember when I was so scared at that cabin you took me to first when we found the demon tablet?  But yeah, I’ve told her pretty much everything.”

“Even about Dean and me?”

“Uh huh, not the gory details, but she’s cool, don’t worry.  She said something about how she understood not getting to pick who you ended up falling in love with.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I think it has to do with who my real father was.  I’ve never been able to get it out of her, and Crowley was teasing me about it the whole time he had me.  Must have been something juicy for him to even care.  But I’ve given up on ever knowing.  I get to know every single thing you and Dean ever do, but not who my biological father is.”

“Wow, I’m sorry Kevin, that really sucks, and it’s uh kinda wild too.  So, she wants to come check up on you. Since you’re going to live with us and go to school and all?”

“Yeah, she says it’s her job as a mother or something.”

“I don’t know much about mothers but I suppose it is.  So when’s she going to be here?” Sam asks.

“She’s taking the train up, and getting in tomorrow, late morning.” Kevin answers.

“Well, cool.  We’ll be glad to see her.  How about you pick which room she should stay in and fix it up for her?  You’d know more what kind of stuff she likes than I would. Use any of the furniture or linens in the other unused rooms up there.”

Kevin stands up to go in and get started, “Thanks Sam.  For everything.”

Sam stares up at him, his face shadowed in the bright sun, “Of course Kevin, we’re really glad you’re sticking with us.”

As Kevin leaves, Sam thinks that he’s really lucky to have this kid around still, like a younger brother in a way, not as hurtful as the appearance of Adam was in their lives.  They’re so much alike, Sam muses, he and Kevin, the whole wanting normal and college and all those dashed hopes because of some Supernatural destiny or unwanted legacy.  Kevin’s changed since his time with Crowley, and the months spent all alone deciphering the tablets.  He’s not just a scared, high school student like he’d been when they’d met him, but a young man with a lot more confidence and experience.  Sam’s pretty sure he’s going to kick ass at college, and wistfully wishes that he could join him.

“Whatcha thinking about? You’re a million miles away, didn’t even hear me coming up.” Dean says, suddenly standing right behind Sam’s back.

Sam cranes his neck backwards to look up at Dean, “Oh hey.  Just doing some non-thinking gardening. Getting these starts in before it rains tonight.”

“Need any help?” Dean asks, ruffling his hand through Sam’s hair.

“As usual you’re just in time, I’m almost finished. So no.  But you can stay and talk to me about why we have so many people in our house all of a sudden.”

“What do you mean?” Dean asks warily, sitting down in the spot on the gravel path Kevin had just vacated earlier.

“Just seems a little strange don’t you think?  First Kevin and Garth, then Charlie yesterday.  Plus, Jody’s coming and now Kevin’s mom too in the next two days.  All we need is Cas and Meg showing up again and we’ll have a full house and pretty much all of our friends.”

“That is weird.  Maybe it’s just spring time? People on the move?  I don’t know, it’s nice though isn’t it? Having all our friends around, like a reunion no one planned on.  It’s not going to be forever or anything.”

“I know, just thought maybe something was going on that I don’t know about.”

“Like what?” Dean asks, crossing his fingers behind his back that Sam hasn’t figured anything out yet.

“You’ve been different lately.”

“How so?” Dean asks carefully not wanting to give anything away.

“Uh, more demonstrative I guess.”

“Thought that was okay with you, was what you wanted.  I’m finally okay with us being honest with everyone, just thought I’d prove it to you.”

“Oh, I didn’t…” Sam starts and doesn’t finish, not wanting to say it out loud in case it’s true.

“What you didn’t think I really meant it?”

“No, well, uh…I guess.  I don’t know, I’m just still getting used to it or something.  It is what I want though.” Sam says firmly, reaching out to hold Dean’s hand.

“Is this a case of now that you’ve got what you thought you always wanted you’re not sure you still want it?”

“Nothing like that, no.”

“Well what is it then Sam?  This is a big deal to me too you know.”

“I do know that, that’s why it’s important.  Here, sit over here next to me, would you.  I’ll tell you.” Sam clears away the empty plant containers and his hand trowel.

“Fine, scoot over.” Dean says, scooting over next to the spot Sam indicates right next to him.

“Okay, so yes, I do want us to be honest with our friends.  And I’m really glad and pleasantly surprised that it’s going so well so far. It’s just all happened so fast you know?  You’re right that I always wanted this, and for you to be showing it with how you’re touching me in front of them, don’t get me wrong.  I like it.  That they can see it like that, so they really know what they’re saying they’re okay with.”

“So what’s the issue then?” Dean asks.

“Just come here, hold me, and tell me it’s still going to keep going so well.” Sam answers, his face looking like he’s about to start crying at any second.

Dean sighs and enfolds Sam in his arms, holding him tight, “Are you worried that Mrs. Tran and Jody are going to say something about us?”

“No…yes…I don’t even know.  It just seems too good to be true somehow.”

“Pity the man who gets everything he wants.” Dean chuckles.

“Something like that.  Shut me up already.” Sam pleads.

Dean leans in to kiss him so sweetly he almost wants to shout out with joy.  Under the spring sun, down in their growing garden, smelling the newly turned soil, and Dean.  All around him.  Filling up his senses until they both can’t take anymore.

~!@~!@~!@~!@

The next couple of nights are spent wrapped up in each other, and everyday seems like a new configuration of friends around their dining room table.  Dean’s enjoying going on beer and food runs with each of them in turn, showing off the newly detailed Impala interior and the beautiful forest-lined roads.  Sam’s having fun finally having an excuse to show off his database and library to people who will care.   Kevin decides to start using all the fancy dishes and silver that came with the house.  He and Charlie spend a couple hours looking up the different pieces online to figure out their uses.  Salt cellars, lobster forks, caviar spoons, and fish knives.

“Sam, ya know if ya add all this up, you could sell all this and pretty much not have to ever work again.” Garth tells him over lunch.

“Really? It’s worth that much? I never thought about it.  Not sure how Meredith would feel about us getting rid of her family’s stuff.” Sam says, thinking about Meredith and how she’d feel.

“Well, she’s off with her faery dude right? I bet she probably wouldn’t care.” Charlie adds.

“I guess . . .  I just don’t feel right about it, but it’s good to know just in case we need a lot of money.” Sam says, filing that tidbit of information in the just-in-case file.

“We can still use the stuff though right?” Kevin asks, hoping that Sam doesn’t mind.

“Why, you like all the fancy dishes Kev?” Charlie teases.

“So what if I do, they’re quality!” Kevin protests, throwing a linen napkin over Charlie’s head. She leaps up and chases him out the kitchen door screaming something about how dare he assault the queen.

“It’s like having a couple of kids all of a sudden.” Sam muses.

“You’re good at it Sam.” Garth observes.

Luckily everyone is pitching in and helping with doing the dishes and cooking.  Garth shows off his gumbo skills one night, Kevin makes a noodle fish dinner that he’d learned from his mom, Charlie protests that she doesn’t know anything about feeding a bunch of people, but finally wows them all with a lasagna that practically makes Dean weep for how good it is.  


	8. Chapter 8

Jody and Mrs. Tran show up on the same day, Jody pulling up in her Jeep, both of them getting out and joining Sam and Kevin who are waiting on the front porch.

Mrs. Tran doesn’t even look at Sam, just makes a beeline straight for her son, enveloping him in a hug worthy of a tiger momma.  Kevin looks pleased and embarrassed and unable to breathe all at once.

“Jody, god it’s great to see you again!” Sam exclaims with real joy, picking Jody up off her feet in a giant hug.

“Wow, uh, good to see you too Sam.  Hi Kevin, how are you?” Jody says a little breathlessly after Sam sets her back down.

Kevin unpeels his mother a little so he can catch a breath and holds her tucked under his arm, nice and close, “I’m good, hi Jody, have a good drive? Thanks for picking mom up from the station.”

“Sure no problem, we had a nice chat.  Yeah the drive was quite a haul, but it sure is pretty country up here.” Jody says.

“Nothing but a day trip.” Says Dean, joining them all from inside the house.

“Dean, oh look at you.” Exclaims Jody, hugging him in an enthusiastic embrace.

“What?” Dean asks, worried that he’s got something on his face.

“You just look, I don’t know, five years younger or something.  How do you do that? What’s your secret?” Jody asks.

Dean puts his arm around Sam’s waist and pulls him in close, looking up at Sam’s face, “Sam here, keeps me happy.”

“You got any extras stashed that I could borrow?” Jody asks, not commenting at all that he’s holding Sam so closely.

“Nope, sorry, find your own.” Dean grins, pulling Sam in closer.

“Jody, Mrs. Tran, you want a tour?” Sam offers, stepping out of Dean’s embrace and pushing the front door open wider.

“Yeah, absolutely.” Jody says, following Sam through the door.

“Kevin, you show me your room first.” Mrs. Tran says as the two of them go up the stairs.

“Sure mom, yours is right down the hall.” Kevin answers, the dutiful son, playing put-upon but everyone can tell he’s really glad she’s there.

“I get my own?” Mrs. Tran asks, sounding more than a little surprised and maybe a little impressed.

“Yeah, Sam and Dean’s place is like a hotel, so many rooms.” Kevin answers, liking that he gets to brag on his friends.

“Humph, we’ll see about that.” Mrs. Tran says, not allowing as Sam and Dean are all that, quite yet anyways.

Dean and Sam share a concerned glance, wondering why she hasn’t really greeted them or said anything yet. They silently shrug at each other and hope Kevin will intervene for them if necessary.

Sam takes Jody into the living room and shows her the rest of the downstairs while Dean stays out on the porch settling down in his favorite Adirondack chair.  Charlie and Garth pull up in Garth’s ride, and they get out laughing about the music choice that Garth had insisted upon.  “Kool and the Gang still rock.   Don’t give me none of this Ani Difranco bull.”

They see Dean on the porch and join him, both sitting on the swing.  Charlie leans forward a little and says quietly, “Dean we’re ready for Friday.”

“Sssh, not sure where he is right now.” Dean says, giving them the universal keep it quiet gesture of zipped lips.

“Okay, sorry. Just wanted to know if Cas and Meg are going to make it.  Trying to make sure we have the right number of chairs and stuff.”

“Last I heard, yeah, they’ll be back here Thursday.”

“How you feeling? Getting nervous buddy?” Asks Garth, slapping Dean on the knee.

Dean looks askance at Garth’s hand on his knee and shrugs.  He’s not talking about it, not with Garth and definitely not if there’s a chance Sam is around.

“Well, you come find me if you want to talk, okay?” Garth offers in his friendly drawl.

“Me too Dean, you know I’m a good listener.” Charlie chimes in.

“Thanks guys, I’m good for now.” Dean demurs. “But wouldja just shut up please?” he pleads.

“Dean, are you being rude to our guests?” Sam asks through the open living room window.

Both Charlie and Garth make the same lip-zipping gesture and try to school their faces into mock outrage for Sam’s benefit.  “You’re damn right he is, you need to keep your man in line Winchester!” kids Charlie, winking at Dean.

“Yeah Dean, if you want us to leave, you should just say so already.” Garth joins in, stifling a laugh, just barely.

“Ha-ha, you guys are killin’ me here.  Don’t worry Sam, I’m being a good host, they’re just kiddin’ you.  Right guys?” Dean makes a pleading face somehow mixed with a glare.

“Okay, but you better be ready for lunch soon.  Jody is going to show me how to make her version of tuna salad.” Sam answers, heading back inside.

Dean makes a yuck face and then cracks up once Sam’s out of earshot.

“Dean, so I don’t screw up, who’s in the know?” Charlie asks in a quiet voice.

“You two, Jody of course she’s gotten us the legal stuff organized so we’ll be legal, Cas and Meg, but who knows if they’ll actually be here or not.  They’re not real reliable now, not that they ever were before now that I think about it.  I haven’t talked to Kevin or his mom, but he might know since he’s a prophet.”

“What do you mean since he’s a prophet?” Charlie asks, completely out of the loop on the whole prophet thing.

“Oh, part of his job as The Prophet of the Lord, is writing down our story.  The prophet we knew before him told us it would end up being the Winchester Gospels in the future, pretty weird huh?”

“He knows everything you guys ever do?” Charlie asks, with more than a little wonder in her voice.

“Yup.  So it’s pretty likely that he knows what’s up, not sure if he’s told his mom or not though.” Dean answers.

“Wow, sucks to be him.” Charlie observes.

“Hey!” Dean says.

“Don’t get me wrong, I love you guys, but knowing all the details of your lives would be… Well, it would be a bit much for anyone.”

“Don’t I know it!” Dean exclaims.

 “Guess so since you’ve lived it.” Charlie says with a little admiration.

“So really it’s just Sam that doesn’t know.” Garth adds in quietly, amused by the back and forth between Dean and Charlie.

“Doesn’t know what?” asks Sam, appearing in the doorway holding a basket.

“Doesn’t know what he’s getting for his birthday and some people just don’t know when the hell to shut up!” Dean says, throwing up his hands to make a bigger distraction. Hoping against everything that this isn’t where all his secret plans are found out.

“Well it better be something good this year.” Sam teases, leaning over to pull Dean up off his seat with his free arm, holding him tight.

Dean sags in relief against him that the birthday dodge was enough to get Sam off the trail, “It is, I promise.  Something I’m pretty sure you’ve always wanted.  What’s in the basket?”

“Stuff that Mrs. Tran baked for us.  Here everyone help yourself.”  Sam sets the basket down on the table and everyone dives in to grab a cookie or muffin.  Dean finds a big chocolate brownie. 

“Wow, Mrs. Tran can stay for as long as she wants if she keeps making this stuff.” Dean mumbles through a crumbly mouthful.

“I’ll only stay if you call me Linda.” She says from the doorway, smiling to see everybody munching on the stuff she brought.

“Deal.” Dean says, standing up to shake her hand.

Linda laughs, “Dean, I had no idea you were so easy.”

The whole group erupts in laughter at that comment and Dean blusters a little before finally joining in.

Dean comes into the kitchen several hours after lunch and finds Sam trying to make three things at once to prepare for their dinner.  “Hey, where did your helpers go?”

Sam’s response is a bitch face and a small sigh, “I don’t know, everyone disappeared before we finished. I’m not sure I can get this all done.”

 “Dude, calm down already.  It’s just a dinner, and it’s just our friends.”

“I know, I’m calm. I just want it to be good.” Sam says.

“Well, I do too. So what can I help with?” Dean offers.

“How about you stir the beans and then wash the lettuce.”

“Aye aye captain!” Dean salutes and sets to work after washing his hands.  They do the kitchen dance in the large space, it’s pretty easy to get it all done quickly. Dean still finds opportunities to crowd into Sam and press him up against the counter.  

Sam turns off the water and puts down the last pot he was washing and leans back into the warm weight of Dean behind him.

“You’ve been working too hard Sammy.  Need to relax.” Dean breathes into his ear making Sam shiver.

“I know you’re right, I just can’t stop once I start. But we’re done now, it’s all good.”

“Just close your eyes for a minute.” Dean purrs against the side of Sam’s neck.  He starts rubbing Sam’s shoulders which are up around his ears in a tense hunch.  “Relax.” He says softly, and Sam does, he melts into Dean’s familiar touch, the warm hands a steady weight on his skin, pushing his muscles back into shape.

Sam can’t help but groan with pleasure when Dean works out the biggest knot under his shoulder blade. Then he feels embarrassed because the window is open and Jody and Linda are right out there in the herb garden just a few feet away. 

“Think they heard you Sammy?” Dean teases.

Sam can’t think coherently for a second to come up with an answer because Dean is now massaging his chest, teasing his nipples through his t-shirt until he thinks he’s going to go crazy, he knows it’s bad when rubbing up against the counter is a welcome friction.  “Maybe.” He finally says, a little breathless.

“Oh I think they did.  What else are they gonna hear?” Dean’s hands travel further south down to the top edge of Sam’s jeans, rubbing at the skin just under his belly button, fingers teasing their way under the waistband.

He hasn’t gotten this hard this fast in a long time and Sam feels his head go so light and airy all of a sudden, almost like when they were dealing with the fairy.  “I think we should go upstairs Dean.” Sam manages, turning around and grabbing Dean’s hand, tugging him towards the servant’s staircase. 

Dean just laughs and follows him, “But what about the dinner?”

“We’re all prepped and ready, we’ve got a couple hours to kill, c’mon already.” Sam pulls him up onto the first flight of steps.

“Sure you don’t want to go for it on the stairs again Sammy?” Dean teases.

There’s a small growl and barked laugh, and Sam just tugs him harder up to their floor.  Once they’re through the door, Sam pulls him through the sitting room into the bedroom and pushes Dean down onto their bed.  “You make me so crazy.”

“I know, I like you that way.” Dean smirks, looking up at Sam standing over him.

“What way?”

“When you lose control a little like this, it’s hot. I never know what you’ll do next.” Dean admits.

“Yeah?” Sam asks a little hesitantly.

“Uh huh.” Dean nods, eyes darkening as he sees his little brother processing that thought, wondering just what he’ll come up with.

Thinking of what else Dean might find hot, something he wouldn’t normally do, a little out of control, Sam begins swiveling his hips and dancing.  He turns around and does a lot of booty shaking which gets a laugh and a whole lot of attention from Dean.  Slowly he starts stripping, first the t-shirt inching up his torso then over his head, keeping his wrists bound for a while.  Dean reaches for him, looking like he wants to tug him in and keep him bound but Sam dances away.  Dean lies back propped up on his elbows completely entranced.  “Keep going Sammy.”

“I plan to, all the way.” He keeps the bump and grind rhythm going with his hips, and starts undoing his jeans, first just the button, running his hand up and down his chest, circling his nipples, gasping a little when he pinches them.  Sam looks over and sees Dean bite his lower lip.  He dances closer and brushes his lips over Dean’s gently, just barely touching.  He pulls back and looks at his brother, full red lips shiny, eyes closed in what looks like bliss, he’s so beautiful like this.

Dean looks up at Sam, blinking and focusing on his brother still dancing for him, “Don’t stop.” He says, hoping that’s the plan, because this is all kinds of hot having Sam dance for him like this, he never would have thought to ask.

Leaning over and sticking his ass out, Sam pulls his jeans down slowly, revealing tight grey boxer briefs. He runs his fingers over the seams and hears a strangled groan from the bed, Dean’s stroking himself through his jeans, the hard bulge unmistakable.  “Want you Sam.”

“I know.” He says, continuing to dance, feeling this free and out of control is such a novelty, he never would have thought he’d enjoy it this much.  But Dean’s eyes on him like traces of hot fire moving on his skin is more than enough to make it worth the embarrassment of shaking his ass like an idiot.  Finally he starts touching himself through his briefs, timing his strokes to Dean’s, their eyes locked onto each other.

“Sammy, c’mon.” Dean almost begs.

“Not done yet.”  Sam continues the slow strokes until he gets himself as hard as he ever can on his own, his briefs have a big wet spot and can’t contain him now, the red head poking up above the waistband, shiny with wetness.  Dean’s practically drooling all over himself at the sight.  Sam dances over to the nightstand and picks up the lube that’s of course handy.  Dean’s eyes go wide, wondering what he’s going to do next. 

First he inches down the briefs, bending over and presenting his still moving ass to Dean as he takes them off over his feet.  While he’s bent over he reaches around with two lubed fingers and starts opening himself up, still moving his hips to the rhythm he’s been dancing to all this time.  He looks around himself at Dean and sees him frantically taking off his own jeans until he’s naked and still sitting on the bed, stroking his very hard cock a little faster.

Sam takes a little more lube from the tube and tosses it back on the nightstand, he turns around and dances back in close to Dean and reaches down to stroke his cock, getting him nice and slick.  He kisses him hot and dirty and then turns back around, kicks Dean’s feet out wide and starts lowering himself. 

Dean gets the picture pretty darned fast and holds his cock steady guiding it towards Sam’s entrance. The feeling is different at this angle for both of them, they both gasp in surprise when Dean’s all the way in. 

Sam stills for a moment getting used to it, leans back over his shoulder and pulls Dean into a quick dirty kiss, mostly just tongue fucking as he can’t reach too well.  And then starts the rhythm back up, the same hip swaying to the beat with a pelvic thrust thrown in now and then, just enough variation to keep Dean on edge.

 Dean’s got his hands on Sam’s waist, steadying him, gripping him strong and sure.  His hands shaking a little with anticipation.  When Sam really starts grinding down onto him Dean groans loudly, “Sammy, too good, this is too good.”

Sam looks over his shoulder so he can make eye contact, “Never good enough for you. For us.”  He speeds up the rhythm until they’re both gasping, Sam’s angling himself so that Dean is hitting him in the sweet spot on nearly every shattering thrust. Dean reaches around to take Sam’s cock in hand, but Sam bats it away.  “No, just like this.”

“You gonna come just on my cock Sammy?”

“That’s . . . The . . . Plan.”

And he does, arching back into Dean’s chest, burying his face against the side of his neck, crying out his pleasure, Dean keeps thrusting a few more times, and comes hard, deep inside Sam.   He flops back onto the bed, pulling Sam with him and rolling to the side.  They’re still joined together and he can’t help thrusting a little more, especially with Sam still grinding back into him.  Sam’s gripping him hard and rhythmically deep inside, and he’s getting harder again. 

“More Dean, c’mon.”

“Not sure if I can Sam.”

“Just try.”

“I think I can, I think I can, I think I can.”

Sam cracks up, almost shaking so much from laughing that Dean falls out of him.  But Dean grips his hips tightly and pulls him in. “Shut up Sam, c’mon.”

“Just, no more quoting from kid’s books, okay?”

“Fine, turning back on the porno dialogue.  Baby, you’re so hot writhing on the end of my cock, never gonna stop.”

“Shut up Dean.”

Dean kisses the back of his neck and then bites him hard as he reaches around to see what state Sam’s in, just from the contact and the bite he’s growing harder and harder in Dean’s hand.  He starts stroking him in time with the small thrusts he’s managing.  Sam begins moving back and forth between Dean’s hand and cock.  Almost mindlessly writhing now, with incoherent sounds pouring out of his mouth, Dean only manages to catch random words, the usual _Love You’s and Mine and All yours and so good’s_ , but then there’s also a few news ones like _: never again, can’t help it_ , and most interestingly, _forever_. 

Sam doesn’t even know where he is at this point caught between the hard and the soft of Dean, surrounded by him, impaled and controlled and it’s never been like this, letting go, letting Dean have all this control.  But he still feels so safe, and he completely trusts that Dean will get him there.  No way will he leave him hanging or stop or something.  They’re both getting there again together and it’s going to be even better than the first time.  Sam regains a little more control of his body and starts participating a little more. 

Dean feels Sam’s body re-engage and doubles his efforts on thrusting into Sam, aiming for the spot that he knows will help Sam lose it.  When Sam’s moans hit that higher pitch he knows he’s got it.  Just the sound of Sam starting to get close is almost enough to get him there himself.  He licks the sweat up off of Sam’s neck and nuzzles into the back of his hair breathing deeply, immersing himself in all things Sam, his body, his scent, his taste, the sound of him, all his senses attuned to his brother, his lover, everything so in sync and perfect and he feels Sam tighten up further deep inside which always means he’s about to come. 

Sure enough Sam does, shouting out Dean’s name, loud and strong, heedless of all the company in the house.  And that’s what does it for Dean this time, the thought that he’s made his brother lose so much control that he got that loud even though their house is filled with people that will give them no end of shit about it.  That’s what gets him, that he did that to Sam, for Sam, with Sam.  Dean joins him in coming hard, yelling out Sam’s name, so that fair’s fair and no one will be able to tease just one of them.

Sam’s laughing gently, the movement enough to finally dislodge Dean from him.  They both groan a little at the loss of contact.  It was good though, no a whole lot better than good Dean thinks, they’ve never managed to go twice in a row without stopping like that.

“What’re you laughing at, thought that was pretty damn awesome.” Dean asks.

“What’d you take your Viagra today or something?” Sam asks.

“No, what? Viagra? I don’t need fucking Viagra, shut up!” Dean splutters.

Sam’s laughing again, “I was kidding, God, Dean, sorry.  I was laughing to myself about how noisy we were, I’m embarrassed that’s all.  Just imagining what people were going to say.”

“I wouldn’t worry about it, it’s our house, they’re guests, and they’re probably as embarrassed as you are. Just get over it, you’re an exhibitionist Sammy.”

Sam rolls over and gathers Dean into his arms, kissing the side of his head, ‘When’d you get so damn smart anyways?”

Dean soaks up the compliment like the low self-esteem loser he knows he is, “Always have been, you just never noticed.”

Sam slaps him on the back hard, “The hell I didn’t. You’re smarter than me in a lot of ways Dean.  I’ve always known that.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

Sam flips him and pins him under the weight of his body, face lit with fierce intensity, “You are Dean.  You’re one of the smartest people I’ve ever known.”

“Even when you add in all those college people that you knew back at Stanford?”

“Yes. Hell yes!  You’d blow them out of the water man.” Sam insists.

“Alright, alright.”

“You gotta quit saying stuff like this, talking yourself down.  I want you to finally get it, that you’re fucking brilliant.  You could have done anything, been anything you wanted.  But we got stuck on world saving duty and you’ve made the best of it you know?”

“Come on Sam, cut it out.”

Sam relents at the near-begging tone in Dean’s voice, he can see that he’s made Dean deeply uncomfortable, so he leans down and kisses him roughly until they’re both breathing hard again.

“Wish I could go again, fuck some sense into you.” Sam says.

“Who knows, maybe it’d work.” Dean laughs.

There’s a loud, obnoxious knock at the door and then they hear steps running back down the stairs and some excited talking and a burst of laughter.  They both look at each other in surprise, but Dean’s the one who gets up, too curious to just stay there wrapped up with Sam, no matter how hard it is to untangle himself.  He pulls on a robe as he walks over to the door, just in case there’s someone still out there, and opens the door slowly.

Down on the floor there’s a piece of paper that says GO LOOK IN THE DUMBWAITER.

Dean picks it up, looks down the stairs and doesn’t see anyone, so he heads back in their room and kicks the door closed.  He heads over to where the dumbwaiter door is, lifts it, and sees a tray with a small vase of flowers, a carafe of lemonade, glasses and a plate of snacks and a folded piece of paper with Sam + Dean in a heart written on the outside.  He takes the tray out carefully and turns, walking back to the bed he stops because Sam’s still lying there just how he’d left him. Sprawled out and absolutely debauched, legs open wide, softened red cock and belly covered in drying come, hair a crazy tangled wild mess and his lips so red and wet.  Mostly though it’s Sam’s eyes watching him that stop him and hold him there.

“You are so beautiful.” Sam says in this reverent tone that Dean knows he shouldn’t screw around with too much.

“Shut up, I was just going to say that.” Answers Dean with a grin. Finally he restarts and walks the rest of the way to the bed setting the tray down next to Sam. He takes off his robe and sits down, waiting for Sam to say something or read the note.

“So what do you think this is supposed to be?” Sam asks, pointing at the tray.

“No idea. Who knows what those assholes are up to now.” Dean admits, but he grabs the note and unfolds it, “I’ll just read this out loud so we both hear it at the same time.”  Sam nods looking at him with a small worried crease between his eyes.

“ _Dear Dean and Sam, We couldn’t help but noticing that you’ve been rather active up here this afternoon.  Here is a restorative snack so that Sam can have his turn next.  Love, Your Thoroughly Entertained Houseguests.”_   Dean barely finishes before bursting into a full-body laugh.

Sam joins him, so delighted that their friends are so nice about all this, and still embarrassed too, but enjoying the uninhibited joy of his brother beside him.

“That’s a hoot now isn’t it? Bunch of pervs, all of ‘em.” Dean says on a last gust of laughter.

“Yeah, and they’re right too.” Sam agrees.

“Oh yeah? Your turn now?” Dean asks.

“Oh yeah, but later after dinner.” Sam says.

“Three times in one day, what are you trying to kill me?”

“Why not?” Sam says, popping a strawberry into his mouth and holding one out for Dean.  Dean sucks it into his mouth and licks Sam’s fingers clean of the red juice left behind.  Tongue teasing between the fingers.  He’s watching Sam’s reaction, and as soon as the heat starts turning up in his eyes he sucks the finger into his mouth, licking around it quickly.  Sam lets out a little gasp and then puts another finger into Dean’s mouth.  Dean sees how intently he’s watching him suck those fingers and lets himself really get into it, imagining that it’s Sam’s cock instead.

“God Dean your mouth.”

“What?”

“The way you look when you’re sucking something, you have no idea what it does to me.”

“Oh I think I have some idea.  Probably the same thing you sucking anything does to me.”

“Is there anything you won’t suck?” Sam asks, still intently focused on Dean’s mouth.

Dean licks his lips slowly, “Not on you, no.”

Sam can’t answer, his mind racing with all the possibilities, and yeah they’ve probably already done them all, but still, just the idea of it is such a huge turn-on.

“You like that huh Sammy?”

“Uh huh. Here drink this.”

Sam hands him a glass of lemonade and Dean drinks it as suggestively as he can manage.  Which judging by Sam’s eyes works pretty damn well.

“It’s gonna be hard to take a nap now that you’ve got me thinking.”

“What about?” Dean asks, hoping that he’s got some idea already of what Sam’s thinking about.

The other food on the tray is good for feeding to each other, there are some juicy blueberries in a small bowl, Sam bites them in half and rubs them over Dean’s full lips until they’re purple and sticky, licking and sucking them gently until it’s all gone and clean again, Dean’s lips even more full and puffy than usual.  Someone thought it would be funny and put two bananas on the tray so of course they have to deep throat those, Dean holding his out and Sam leaning over to take it all the way in and then playfully biting off the tip.

“Ouch, glad that’s not me.” Dean says, seeing the tip separate and disappear into Sam’s mouth.

“I’d never.” Sam says through his mouthful of banana.

It’s too fun playing with the food and staying in this state of teasing arousal, especially when they’re so well-sated from earlier.  Finally they clean up in the shower, and head back down to finish cooking.  The kitchen is full of people who all applaud sarcastically when they come down the kitchen stairs.  Sam turns bright red and Dean just scowls at everyone, the tips of his ears a little pink. 

“We think it’s awesome, don’t worry guys.” Charlie says, waving a wooden spoon covered in baked beans.  A few of them hit Garth in the neck and he wipes them off, grinning, “It’s a beautiful thing, nothing to be embarrassed about.  Except maybe those.” And he points with the spatula he was turning the fritters with at Sam’s long exposed neck which is covered with bite marks and dark hickies.

“I think I’ve got a scarf you could borrow Sam.” Jody teases.

Sam blushes even deeper red, not able to meet anyone’s eyes.  Dean sees this and pulls him in close with an arm around his waist, with the other hand he points at all of them fiercely, “You all need to just give it a rest. Or we’re kickin’ you out.” Dean threatens.

Kevin and Cas come in from outside, “We’ve got the barbeque going finally.” Kevin announces.

“Oh, you are done with this afternoon’s exercises I see.” Cas says, looking closely at Dean and then Sam.

“You’re here! But not you too Cas, c’mon give us a break.” Sam pleads.

“What do you need me to break Sam?” Cas asks, clueless or maybe kidding this time, no one can tell.

Meg gets up from the kitchen table where she was peeling oranges for the fruit salad, and crosses to his side, where she elbows him sharply in the ribs, “Clarence, he wants you to stop talking about their afternoon delight. Remember what we discussed?”

Cas smiles that small smile that he gets when he remembers something that he feels is important, learning about these humans that are his friends is an ongoing thing, he mimes zipping his lip as Meg had shown him and nods at her silently.   Everyone in the room cracks up and that breaks the tension and brings the focus off of Sam and Dean.  Sam’s blush fades and Dean’s scowl disappear as they dive back in to getting the dinner ready.  Dean’s got the steak and vegie skewers going outside with Cas and Kevin. 

“You humans love to burn things don’t you.” Cas observes.

Kevin and Dean laugh, “Yeah Cas that we do, and we’re good at it too.” Dean says.

Sam’s got most of the side dishes ready, and someone was nice enough to set the table.  The barbequed stuff is brought in and everyone serves themselves in the kitchen, carrying their loaded plates into the dining room.  Jody had mixed up a big batch of sangria earlier so there are wineglasses on the table full of the deep red beverage. And Mrs. Tran had dug out the candlestick holders and found white candles, so those are arranged up and down the table.  With the lights turned off and all their friends around the table, so many eyes twinkling in the candlelight, Sam and Dean look at each other from either end of the long table.  Communicating as usual silently, but completely.  Dean watches as Sam stands, raising his wine glass, “A toast! To the friends that join us around our table. To the ones we’ve loved and recently lost and wish could be here to join us tonight.  To a future filled with such joyful gatherings.”

Sam and Dean smile a little sadly at each other, thinking of Bobby, and how much they miss him.  They both catch Jody misting up a little too.

Dean interrupts the descent into sadness with a hearty, “Hear, hear!”  Everyone repeats it and clinks glasses together.  The table erupts into loud talking, with occasional pauses for more toasts made as the sangria is consumed.  Cas says one in Enochian which he swears is hilarious, Meg shares one in one of the demon tongues, Mrs. Tran says one in Vietnamese which she promises to translate, and Charlie comes up with one in Elvish.  After all the food is eaten and the drinks drained dry, they all drift into the living room, arranging themselves on the couches, chairs and the floor pillows.  Stories of the last few years are shared, plans and hare-brained schemes for the future are cooked up.  Finally it’s down to just Sam and Dean finishing up the dishes in the quiet kitchen.

“This was one of the best days ever.” Sam says, drying his hands on a dish towel.

“Yeah?” Dean turns to look at Sam, to see if he’s kidding, but of course he’s not because this really was a great day.

“It’ll be hard to top.” Sam says pulling Dean in for a hug.

“You’re probably right.” Dean murmurs into his collar.

~~!@~!@~!@~!@


	9. Chapter 9

The next day arrives, it’s finally Friday, and they’re all here, all of their friends in one place.  That has never happened, in the history of ever. Dean feels like that’s quite an accomplishment if nothing else happens today.  And to top off his good feelings, Sam still doesn’t seem to know a thing.  He’s so busy keeping up with all the guests, making sure they’re all taken care of and that someone’s doing the dishes.  And he’s been spending as much time as possible with Sam up here in their rooms, so that they have enough physical contact as usual.  He didn’t want Sam to be suspicious if he slacked off in that regard.  That and he seems to still really be getting off on the almost getting caught thing still.  Which cracks Dean up, Sam getting all worked up like that, just because someone might see or hear them doing nothing more exciting than them enjoying their version of mostly plain vanilla sex.

But now, it’s finally time to get the proceedings underway.  Sam’s out on a made-up reason for a supply run, Jody sent him out for toothpicks, gin and garlic stuffed olives.  Something about making the perfect martini for cocktail hour (whenever that is).  Dean’s got his best suit on and is as cleaned-up as he ever gets these days, Sam’s suit is laid out on the bed, ready for him to jump into it when he gets home.  The plan is that Cas will escort Sam up here through the back kitchen stairs, avoiding the rest of the house and garden where the festivities are set up.  Cas has orders to not let Sam go anywhere else but straight upstairs.  He also has orders to follow Sam and make sure he reads the letter Dean’s left on the bed with Sam’s clothes.  It explains everything, at least Dean thinks it does.  He gulps to himself, hoping that he’s done the right thing here.

Jody did most of the food with a lot of help from Garth, and it’s laid out in the dining room on all the fine china and linens. Linda and Charlie were in charge of the flowers, both choosing beautiful smelling blooms from the nearest flower market over in Stowe.  Some are arranged inside and the house smells amazing, a lot are outside being used where the main event will take place.  Dean doesn’t honestly know what any of the flowers are besides the roses, but he hopes that Sam likes at least some of them. 

Dean had gone into town and ordered a cake from Susan earlier in the week. Once she figured out what it was for, she got a big grin on her face and assured Dean she’d make the best cake Sam had ever had. “I’m a pie person, so I don’t know what kind of cake to get.  But I know he’d want the traditional one, something with chocolate.”  Dean had said.  Susan delivered the cake this morning while Sam was out, just like they planned, setting it up on a side table that someone had put a table cloth over, and next to it she placed a beautiful mixed-berry pie. 

Dean of course doesn’t miss it, “I didn’t order a pie Susan.”

“I know, but it’s a tradition to have a little something on the side.  This one’s for you Dean, I know Sam would have ordered it.”

“You’re the expert, thanks Susan.  You’re staying right?  Sam would want you here, plus we need someone to help us serve this cake, I have no clue and I don’t want to ruin it.”

“Of course Dean, that’s why I’m dressed up.” She waves at her non-flour covered Susan’s Bakery t-shirt and clean jeans.

Garth and Kevin pitched in earlier that morning and set up the chairs out at the end of the flower garden under some of the blooming fruit trees.  They found an old red and very long carpet runner in the basement that they rolled out between the small assortment of chairs to make an aisle.  Luckily the forecast for today is clear and cool, so they’ll have sun and no rain, or god forbid any more snow.

Cas and Meg took over and made an altar, bringing in elements from all their combined years of living and experience.  One of the large side tables was brought out onto the lawn and they covered it in one of the many white tablecloths that they found in the linen closet (who knew there was such a thing as a closet just for linens, or that people would own more than one white tablecloth?!).  They’ve drawn symbols all over it, some that Dean recognizes, and many that he doesn’t.  Cas has assured him that all of them add up to blessings for a long happy fruitful life together.  Dean’s down with all that.  Especially the long and happy part, he’s not so sure about the fruitful thing because that doesn’t make much sense since they’re both guys after all.  But when has Cas ever really made that much sense?  Meg just laughed when he asked for an explanation, so he hopes it isn’t some sort of trick.  

Dean hasn’t stopped to think about what Sam will say or do, well no, that’s not exactly true.  He’s been thinking about it pretty much nonstop once he first started this thing in motion.   There’s no way he’ll say no.  That much he’s sure of.  There might be some crying happening, and well, he can deal with that.  It won’t be fun of course, and hopefully it’ll be the happy sort of crying.  The only thing he’s truly worried about is Sam being mad that he did this all himself.  That they didn’t do it together. But he hopes that Sam will get why he’s done all this in secret.  It just seemed like the most perfect way to prove to him, once and for all, that he’s not ashamed of them, that he accepts that he’s what’s best for Sam, that he’s not a second choice, that he’s always been Sam’s first choice and vice versa. 

He’s realized that’s what’s really important to him, that Sam knows this for sure, never doubts it again.  Because after all they’ve been through in their lives, and in this kind of quiet settling down thing that they’re doing now, that is never going to change.  Ever.  Dean looks at himself in the mirror one last time, making sure his clean-shaven face doesn’t have any nicks.  He tries to see what Sam sees, but all that’s there is the same old Dean, just without stubble for once.  But, he admits, there is a different sort of general happiness that looks good on him.

The rumble of the Impala breaks into his thoughts and he takes a deep gulp of breath.  Showtime.  He touches the letter he’s left for Sam on the bed and heads down the main stairs, clapping his hands.  “The Eagle has landed, I repeat The Eagle has landed.”  Cas pokes his head out of the kitchen and gives him the thumbs up.  Dean thinks back to when they first met and can’t picture _that_ Cas ever using such a thoroughly human gesture.  Meg yanks him back into the kitchen and winks at Dean.  As long as Sam goes in the kitchen door as usual, all will go according to plan.

He pauses at the front door and hears the Impala’s engine shut off, the familiar door squeak and slam and the rustle of bags and clink of bottles.  Sam’s steps are heading in the right direction, away from him and towards the kitchen.  Pshew!  So Dean heads quickly down to the garden where everyone else is assembled.

All their heads turn in unison, and on each face he sees a different sort of smile.  Susan sits with Mrs. C and Celeste, all three smiling at him happily. 

“Dean we’re so happy to be here today. Mrs. Callahan and Susan and I are all thrilled for you two.” Celeste says as he passes. 

“Thanks, it’s great that you’re here. Sam will be really pleased.”

Charlie looks excited sitting there next to Garth.  Garth’s just grinning, wide and goofy with those soft caring eyes.  Linda and Kevin are both giving him the same look, like proud parents almost, maybe Kevin’s spoiled the ending for both of them already.  Sometimes his visions come with advance glimpses of the future. 

Jody’s adjusting something on the altar, and is wearing a lavender dress, she turns and sees Dean and whistles appreciatively, her eyes sparkling with mischievousness.  “Looking good Winchester.”

“Yeah, well, wait till you see Sam.”

Charlie gets up and comes over to Dean, she’s holding some sort of flower thing in her hand.  “Here, we made you both one of these boutonniere thingies.”  Dean stands still as she pins it over his heart on his suit jacket.  She pats his shoulder and looks up at him, “there, now you’re ready.”

Dean takes another deep gulp of air, and blows it out, “I hope so.”

“What you’re nervous?  What do you think he’s gonna do? Say no or some bull like that?”

“No, god I hope not!  I’m just.  I guess I’m just regular nervous for someone about to do this.”

“How about that, Dean Winchester is a mere mortal after all.” Charlie jokes, standing up on tip toes to hug him and kiss his cheek.  “You’re doing the right thing Dean, it’s all gonna be good.”

Dean laughs, “Yeah, I know, hope he doesn’t take too long to get out here before I lose my nerve.”

~~!@~!@~!@~!@

Sam bustles into the kitchen with his crinkly recycled vinyl eco shopping bags, a recent gift from Cas and Meg, and sets them on the table.  Speak of the devil (well demon and angel), Cas and Meg are sitting there drinking what is most likely tea. 

“Welcome home Sam.” Cas says, his formality still hanging in there even though he’s been with Meg for a while now.

“Uh, thanks Cas.  Where is everyone?”

Cas momentarily thinks about answering truthfully, but remembers his promise to Dean, he stands up and reaches out to grip Sam’s wrist, “Sam, Dean asked me to escort you upstairs, please come with me.”  Cas gestures for him to go up the back kitchen stairs, pulling on his wrist.  Sam looks over at Meg for confirmation, she’s still the one that monitors Cas’ mental state, which they’re all aware is still a changeable thing.

Meg nods at Sam, “Clarence knows what he’s talking about this time Sam, go up with him and check it out.”

Sam shrugs and follows Cas up the small staircase, wondering what it will take for him to let go, sometimes Cas doesn’t know his own strength and his wrist is kind of starting to hurt.  “Cas can you let go, I’m following you, okay?”

“I promised Dean that you would go straight up here when you returned home.”

Sam sighs knowing that these days, there’s no budging Cas from a promise and tries to keep in step with him so that Cas isn’t yanking on his arm so much.  Finally they get upstairs to Sam and Dean’s rooms, and he enters with Cas still holding him tightly.  But there’s no Dean as he’d expected.  All their rooms are empty, and Cas leads him to the bed, pointing at a folded over piece of paper with Dean’s handwriting scrawled on it, **_Sam Read This First._**

“Dean said you were to read this and I will wait in the sitting room.”  Cas finally lets go of him and removes himself to the sitting room, closing the door behind him.  Sam’s left alone in their bedroom now, with his best suit laid out on the bed, no Dean and a mysterious note, and an even stranger than usual Cas.  He hears Meg in the sitting room now, talking with Cas.  None of this makes sense, he sinks down on the bed next to his suit and opens the note.

_Dear Sam,_

_Please make yourself as pretty as you want (but don’t take too long) and put on the suit and meet me in the garden._

_Love,_

_Dean_

What the hell? Sam thinks to himself, tracing over the **_Love, Dean_** written in his brother’s neat scrawl with one finger.  Has Dean ever written that down before?  No, no he hasn’t. Because Sam would definitely remember that, and he sure as hell would have kept it. Like forever. 

_What the hell is going on?_  

He reads it again and shrugs to himself.  Dean’s playing some sort of game here that he’s roped Cas and Meg into, he guess he’ll humor Dean and play along.  He goes into the bathroom and takes a quick shower, and then shaves.  He looks at himself in the mirror and fixes his hair the way he knows Dean likes, a little up off his face, but combed out and flowing over his neck.  He gets his suit on and sees how nicely pressed everything is.  Someone ironed this for him?  Do they even have an iron in this place?  Knowing Meredith there’s probably more than one.  Sam just hasn’t been looking for one lately.

He checks himself out in the mirror on the back of the door to the sitting room, suit looks fine.  He hasn’t worn this in a long time, months.  And he looks good, a little tan from working in the garden, and that happiness that he feels inside is showing in how relaxed his face is.  Hoping that this is pretty enough for Dean, whatever the hell that meant, he opens the door and surprises Meg and Cas who are wrapped up tight in a pretty serious lip lock.  Sam clears his throat.  “I’m ready.  You coming down to the garden too?”

Cas and Meg separate slowly from their embrace and Cas answers him, with a heavy-lidded look that wasn’t meant for him, “Yes, we are to escort you there Sam.”

Meg looks him up and down and whistles a little, “You clean up good for a human Sam.”

“Uh. Thanks I guess.” Sam says, blushing a little at the compliment.  Cas and Meg thread their arms through his on either side and escort him out the door and down the larger main staircase.  Sam can see there are vases of flowers in the entry way and in the dining room.  And what’s on the table?  There’s all these covered platters of food.  “What’s going on guys?” Sam asks, “What is all this?”

Cas and Meg keep propelling him toward the front door, “You’ll get your answer soon enough Sam, keep going. Dean will kill us if we take any longer.” Meg insists.

“Okay, okay, I’m coming, you don’t have to pull me so much.”  Both the demon and the angel still have some of their inhuman physical strength left and are using it to pull Sam along faster than he’d normally go, soon they’re on the front porch and down the stairs heading down the wide gravel path through the herb garden.  Sam can hear the bees in the mint and all the birds in the fruit trees.  They round the corner of the house to where he can see the rolling lawn and flower garden and Sam stops dead in his tracks.  And Cas and Meg let him.

He can’t process what he’s seeing, it’s like something out of a dream or fantasy that he’d never have told anyone in a million years.  Sam skips over all the details of everything because Dean.  There he is in the center of this scene, at the end of the path, waiting for him.  Sam can see from here that he’s bouncing a little in his shoes which are shined and perfect. That tell-tale bounce that means he’s nervous.  He sees that Dean’s suit is perfect too, and he’s got a flower or something pinned over his heart.  Then his face, all of this love and joy just radiating out so that it’s all Sam can see, even from this far away.

Meg and Cas get in front of him for a second, and Meg’s pinning something to his jacket, “Here Sam, you’re ready now, go get your man.” Meg says, slapping him on the ass.  Cas grabs her hand possessively and links their arms together.  “If you would please follow us now Sam.”  Cas says, and he begins escorting Meg down the red carpet towards the two empty chairs.

Sam is frozen for a moment, not sure what to do, not wanting to step into this maybe most elaborate joke or fantasy or hallucination he’s ever seen.  But then the music starts, Garth straightening up from pressing buttons on the boom box under his chair.

“The Rain Song” by Led Zeppelin (of course Led Zeppelin) begins, it’s a beautiful song that paints a picture of love throughout the seasons.  Sam’s always loved it, especially when Dean would sing along to it as they drove through the night.  The notes and lyrics of this song pull Sam towards Dean down the carpet and Dean’s smile gets even wider, those eye crinkles so deep, his white teeth shining in a huge welcoming grin.  When he gets closer Dean extends his hand, Sam takes the last few steps and grasps it like it’s a rescue floatation device and he’s sinking, going under. 

The long song ends on Jimmy Page’s plaintive guitar, and Sam can’t say anything, paralyzed by how wonderful and perfect this all is, _but what is it? Is it what he thinks it is?_

Dean turns them to face each other, clasps both of Sam’s hands in his and looks up at him, all of him and asks formally, but with a voice cracking with emotion, “Sam Winchester, will you marry me?” 

No one seems to breathe for the split second it takes Sam to answer in a tone strong with conviction and somehow soft with love, “Yes Dean Winchester, yes I will.”

Dean’s face crinkles up even further with happiness, he looks like he’s going to bust wide open, “Then let’s do this thing!” Dean yells in joy.  All their friends laugh and applaud.

Jody gets up from her chair on the end and walks behind the altar.  Sam notices that she’s wearing a beautiful lavender dress.  Meg and Cas come forward and light the two candles on either end of the altar and sit back down.  Dean pulls Sam over to stand centered in front of the altar with him, and they wait there holding hands, both looking expectantly at Jody.

Jody clears her throat and starts out on a regular run-of-the-mill marriage ceremony, “Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today.”

Dean clears his throat with an obnoxiously loud “ahem.”

Jody stops and grins at him, “Just kidding, had to try it at least once.  Samuel and Dean Winchester, we your friends are gathered here today to witness your marriage. We all recognize that this is not the usual course for brothers to take, but we all acknowledge that this union is essential for you both and for the world.  Your love is an example to us all. What say you friends?”

“We agree.” Say the attendees in joyful unison.

“If there is an objection to the joining of these two men, speak now or forever shut the hell up.” Jody says with a grin.  She looks around at all the guests, but they’re all just smiling, no one is making a peep or attempting a joke.  Sam and Dean stand up a little straighter in relief, as if they’d been expecting at least some sort of teasing comment.

“Good, I didn’t think so, but I had to ask. There are two who would like to add something at this point.” Jody gestures at Meg and Cas.

Meg and Cas get up, holding hands and say in unison, with a sound that approaches their former power and sounds like a binding proclamation, “What Heaven and Hell attempted to part has never been rent asunder, and so shall it ever be.”  They both watch closely to see how Sam and Dean will react and once they see their words are accepted as The Truth, they sit back down together.

Sam and Dean look at each other as the remnants of power still vibrate off their friend’s words.  They both nod, acknowledging the big history they share, that awful destiny they both denied together.

“Are there tokens you would like to exchange?” Jody asks.

Garth gets up and hands something small and warm from the heat of his grip to each of them.  Sam can feel it’s a ring, but he doesn’t look at it, he can’t stop looking at Dean.  He’s so beautiful, brimming over with joy like this, Sam’s never seen him like this.  He hopes he looks the same to Dean.

“Dean you begin.” Jody prompts, seeing that the boys are getting lost in each other (again, like usual).

Dean clasps their hands together and takes a deep breath to settle his nervousness, he locks eyes with Sam and all of that goes away, he’s able to speak from his heart like this occasion deserves, “Sammy, I know this is a surprise, and if you want to do it another way, another time, that’s okay too.  I just couldn’t wait, I had to do it this way to show you what you mean to me.  With all of our friends here to witness it.  You’re the only thing in this world that’s ever really mattered to me, I’ve found out the hard way that there’s no life for me without you.  But beyond that, I love you, more than I ever thought was possible.  You’re the best thing that ever happened to me Sam Winchester and I want to spend the rest of our lives showing you what you mean to me.”  Dean puts a ring on Sam’s left ring finger and brings it up to his mouth, kissing it softly.

Sam feels like he’s about to explode from happiness hearing Dean say those words, but he quickly composes himself, drawing strength from the love he sees brimming in Dean’s eyes. He begins slowly at first, but then picking up steam when the necessary words flow through him, “Dean, today has been . . . uh, a surprise and then it isn’t really, because we’ve always been headed here to this point haven’t we?  And . . . ah, I’m glad that everyone is here so that they can hear me say this to you.  You, Dean Winchester are the only reason we’re all still alive.  There are so many points in our history where I almost gave up, but you were always there to stop me or help me make the right choice or remind me of what’s worth living for.  We’ve been pulled apart and pushed around by a lot of powerful forces, but the power and force of our love is what’s gotten us here together.  I hope that you know that you are my guiding light, my reason for being, and the only true love I’ve ever known.  I love you Dean Winchester and I want to spend the rest of our lives showing you what you meant to me.”  Sam puts the ring on Dean’s left hand ring finger and brings his hand up, softly kissing it.  Their eyes meet across their joined hands and an almost visible spark emits between them.

“Not bad for off the cuff Sam.  Well, with the power vested in me by the South Dakota police, the help of several lawyers that assisted in name changes and histories, and a reputable online ministry licensing agency, I now pronounce you married.  Ladies and Gentlemen, angel and demon, friends all, I now present to you the husbands Winchester.  You may now kiss or whatever.” Jody finishes.

Sam pulls Dean into an embrace, and Dean grasps him tightly around the neck, their lips meet softly at first, but Dean whispers, “c’mon Sam, let’s give ‘em what they really want.”

With an almost silent chuckle, Sam opens up and lets Dean in, a long exploring wet passionate kiss that they really mean.  Finally they pull apart, both licking their lips and turn towards the group which has gone silent watching the passion on display before them.

Meg fans herself with both hands, “You boys are too much.”

“Yeah really, leave something to the imagination.” Garth complains and Charlie elbows him in the ribs to shut him up.

“Thank you all for being here for us. For coming so quickly when I asked and helping with everything and most of all, for keeping it secret.  I’ll never be able to thank you enough for making this day possible.” Dean says, ignoring the comments.

“It makes it even more special that you all were here with us.  Thank you all for your friendship and support.” Sam adds.

“Next we have an offering of music.”  Jody gestures to Kevin and Linda, who rise and go to stand to the side of the altar facing everyone.  Kevin nods over at Garth who starts up the boom box again, the first notes of the Beatle’s “Blackbird”, and Sam and Dean grip each other’s hands tighter as they hear the Prophet’s voice and his mother’s rise and twine together in the song.  When they finish both Linda and Kevin bow slightly towards Sam and Dean who return the bow, and then the Trans sit back down looking very pleased with themselves.

“Mrs. Callahan now has something she’d like to share with you.” Jody smiles over at Susan and Celeste who help Maggie up and steady her across the grass between them to stand next to the altar.

“Sam and Dean. As I was the one left behind as Meredith’s representative, she asked me to give these to you when you were finally ready to receive them. From what I can tell, you are both more than ready.  You’ve seen them before, and wore them when we last saw Meredith and Mohit, but now I can give them to you and tell you what they are for.”  She holds out the two medallions, dangling on their gleaming silver chains, they both come towards her and she places one over each of their heads, giving them a quick kiss on the cheek.

“These medallions are very powerful, as you know from previous personal experience.  But what Merry didn’t tell you, is that they were made by the original Fae that came here from England so long ago, they belonged to her father, he thought they would come in handy dealing with the local Fae which they did as you saw.  But their power is not to be misused or forgotten.  Remember that if you are acting in concert together, their power will be magnified as it was when you did the spell releasing Mohit, but otherwise, they are just meant to be a reminder of what you declared to Mohit that day when your life was forfeit to him for a lie, that you love each other.  She wanted you to always remember that your honesty about your love was what saved you both.”

“Thanks Mrs. C.” Dean says, kissing her on the cheek.

“Thank you Maggie.” Sam says, leaning down to kiss her other cheek.

“Wear them in good health boys, especially on the equinoxes, just in case.” She says, turning to Susan and Celeste who escort her back to her seat.

“We done now Jody?” Dean asks, looking over his shoulder at Jody who’s still stationed behind the altar.

Jody nods, “You just have to light the last candle together.”

Cas and Meg look at each other expectantly.  Dean and Sam turn back towards the altar, Jody points at the two already lit candles and gestures so they know what to do.  They each pick one of the lit candles up and bring the flames together to the unlit fat white pillar in the center of the altar.  It’s sitting in the middle of the most ornate symbol on the whole decorated tablecloth, as he’s lighting the unlit candle with Dean, bringing their two flames together to make one new one Sam starts to realize what it is.

“Dean it’s going to…” Sam starts to say, but he doesn’t get to finish because they’re not there anymore, they’re somewhere else, a no-place sort of place, nothing to see except for Dean, standing surprised by his side.

“Where are we Sammy?” Dean asks in a trembling, surprised, trying to get it together sort of voice.

“I was trying to tell you, the altar cloth, the symbols, they were part of a spell, and lighting the candle finished it.”

“But where the hell are we though?”

“I think it’s an in-between place.” Sam says holding onto his medallion to see if it’s doing anything.

“Okay. How do we get back? Any ideas? These medallions do anything here?” Dean asks.

“They don’t seem to be activated, and I don’t know any spells by heart to try and use them.  I’m pretty sure that this is a faerie thing, or at least related to them anyways, the spell on the tablecloth was written in Faerie scripts and Enochian, so it’s probably like a cooperation thing between angels and the Fae.  This is probably supposed to be a good thing.  So relax.”

“How can I relax? I’m in the middle of getting married to you and then all of a sudden we’re just gone!”

“Dean, calm down.  We can figure this out, I’m here, you’re here, we’re okay.”

“I just wanted us to have a normal day for once.”

“Naw, that’d be boring, c’mon, it’s us, why would we get to have a normal wedding?  Which by the way, thank you for it, I was completely surprised and it’s awesome.”

“Love you Sammy.” Dean says, before he can even think about it, it’s his wedding day after all.

“Love you too Dean.”  They lean their foreheads together and just rest there, comforted to be in each other’s arms.  Dean looks up at Sam and then kisses him softly at first and then a little deeper.  The moment their lips touch a light purple glow surrounds them, when they pull apart after the kiss they seem to be in a thick purple fog.  The misty air feels good on their skin, like an all at once all over body massage.  Their muscles are a nice sort of relaxed and loose, their bodies responding to the mist, accepting it into the pores of their skin.

“Sam what is this shit?”

“Don’t know, happened when we kissed though.  Feels awesome doesn’t it?”

“Yeah, it really kind of does. Is it some kind of love spell or something?”

“I wouldn’t think so, since we already love each other.  Let me try something.”  Sam leans down and starts kissing Dean’s neck, licking and biting his way up to his ear the way he knows he likes.  Sure enough the purple mist seems to concentrate there, right where Sam’s lips touch Dean’s skin.

“Does it feel different Dean? Than when I normally do that?”

“Yeah it’s like times a thousand, I can barely stand up it feels so damn good.  Let me try you now.”

Dean repeats the same experiment on Sam, with the same result, the mist swirls in and concentrates where lips meet skin.  “I can see it Sam, going into your skin.”

“Oh god, this feels so, I can’t even describe it.” Sam feels himself bowing under the weight of the intense sensations.

“You thinking what I’m thinking?”  Dean asks, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.

“Probably.”  They both laugh and start taking off one another’s suits and carefully placing their medallions in the pockets.  Once they get down to bare chests they rub against one another and groan in sync.  The feeling of hands on bare skin is almost orgasmic all on its own.  It doesn’t seem possible.

“Should we?”

“I don’t see why not.  Seems like that’s what this is for.”

“How do you want to?”

“Both ways, only seems fair.”

“Yeah, sounds good.”  Dean groans as Sam licks one of his nipples, suckling on it brings a crazy swirl of the purple mist.  It soaks right into his skin and amplifies all the sensations.

“Get the rest off, now Dean, need to see all of you.” Sam demands, getting impatient to see his brother covered in the purple mist, coming apart under his hands.  They both finish disrobing and press up against each other in an embrace touching as much skin together as possible.  Both so hard they can barely stand it.  The overwhelming prickles of energy and delight from this mist are almost too much to bear.  But they can’t seem to stop.  It’s not exactly like a sex pollen thing or a succubus spell, nothing as dire as that, it’s not even a light compulsion spell.  It seems to be a wanting your partner to have as much pleasure as they can stand suggestion, which isn’t so bad for either of them really.  Sam finally convinces Dean to lie down. 

“What are we even lying on, I can’t even tell, what are we in a cloud or something?” 

“I don’t know Dean, just go with it, would you?”  Sam pulls him down on top of him, so that Dean’s sprawled out on his body, their groins aligned in that perfect way they always seem to slot into whenever they get close enough.  One time Dean had told Sam, “Sammy, we’re like those magnets that always point to true north, we always line up just so.  Fucking piece of art is what that is.”

“You still open enough from this morning you think?”  Dean asks, “Cause I didn’t stash any lube or anything in my wedding suit jacket, wasn’t plannin’ on a trip like this.”

“Why don’t you check and see.”  Sam says spreading his legs in invitation.

Dean sneaks a hand down between Sam’s legs and feels around his hole, which yeah is a little puffy, but he opens up easily, the mist easing his way, “gonna be so good Sammy, wanna get in there and see what it feels like, okay?” 

Sam can barely speak because of the overwhelming pleasure Dean’s minimal explorations left behind, like miniature earthquakes and tremors going off from deep within, the mist is permeating every pore that Dean touches.  “It’s everywhere you touch me Dean.  Every single pore.  C’mon, get in me now, please.  Wanna feel it.”  Sam begs, desperate to be filled with Dean and the purple mist.

Dean lines himself up and slowly enters Sam, not wanting to push it, and hurt him, but the mist seems to ease the way, they didn’t need lube after all, it’s coating him, his whole cock glowing with it as he moves in and out of Sam; Sam who is an incoherent mess beneath him, completely losing it, moaning and thrashing, babbling about the light and the perfection of it all. 

Dean pulls him up to kiss him, hoping to stop the babbling a bit, and when their lips meet it’s like a circuit completing, a light switch being thrown, the whole world lights up purple and it’s all he can see, just Sam, around him, and in him and he can feel the way Sam feels, being filled, and it’s as if Sam is entering him at the same time, but how can that be?  Sam is fucking him at the same time.  It’s like they’ve separated or doubled or something.  All he knows is that he’s penetrating Sam, and Sam is penetrating him at the same time, and it’s pretty much heaven.

Nothing has ever felt this good, getting tossed back and forth between the opposite feelings, all of it melding into one big sticky, gooey, bouncy ball of energy and sex and joy and love until he’s exploding in a cloud of purple bliss, and feels vaporized, molecules of Sam and molecules of himself swirling around in a big cloud in the purple mist, swirling and mixing and joining and combining until they can’t tell each other apart.

But there’s no need to, this is how they are, really, inside, with everything stripped away, completely intertwined at a basic molecular soul level, and they both see it, and feel it, and live it.  There will be no denying it ever again.  This is what it means to be soul mates.  And this spell or whatever has given them this gift of truly knowing that. 

Both of the clouds of Sam and Dean seem to reach that enlightenment and acknowledge how much they are within the other and they slowly reform into their individual whole selves.  Reappearing side by side, arms and legs tangled together, staring into each other’s blown wide eyes.  Both struck speechless for once.  Dean mouths the only word that comes to his mind, “Sammy.” And Sam answers him with a wordless “Dean.” 

Then there’s nothing for a while, nothing except for them, together wrapped up in a purple cocoon that’s nurturing and comforting and the tension of the day is gone, the worry about doing the right thing in getting married, the risk of revealing themselves to their friends was silly, and they’ve got the whole future laid out before them, a maze of choices to be made together.  They can see it all from where they lie together, and they both turn inwards to each other, because that’s where they need to be right now.  In this moment, there’s no future, no past, just the now of their joining.  When they kiss for a last time, the mist starts retreating, pulling away slowly out of them, leaving behind a washed-clean feeling.

“We’re minty fresh inside and out,” says Dean. “Like we’ve been sanitized and dry-cleaned, like the suits.”

 And then the suits and medallions are back on them, and they’re back. With no further transition, just back in the regular world, with only themselves as witness to what just happened, their friends didn’t notice their absence.  Only Cas and Meg seem to have a clue, Meg giving them a big wink and Cas looking a little sheepish perhaps. 

Sam elbows Dean, and whispers, “You gotta ask them what that was, okay?  I just need to know.” 

“Yeah Sammy, okay.”

At least, thankfully, their clothes are back on, not a hair out of place, and they’re standing up holding candles in the same position as when they’d left.  The flame of the single candle is high and bright.  Sam looks over at Dean and sees the look he imagines is on his face too.  Dean whispers out of the side of his mouth, “That’s got to be the weirdest place we’ve ever done it, huh Sammy?” 

Sam winks at him in answer.  They both put their candles back on the altar and turn around to face their guests.


	10. Chapter 10

“I now pronounce this wedding over, let’s party!” Shouts Jody from behind them.  Everyone stands up and applauds, coming forward to hug Sam and Dean, shake their hands, kiss their cheeks, and pat their asses depending on who’s doing the greeting.  Sam looks at Dean over the crowd of people between them and sees his brother at the happiest he’s ever been.  He feels like he’s been waiting his whole life to see that look on his brother’s face.  Content, happy, surrounded by loved ones, buoyed up by sharing this momentous occasion with everyone. 

Later that night, after everyone’s told them to get the hell upstairs and consummate this thing, they’re hanging out in their sitting room looking out over the garden finishing the last bottle of champagne.  The moon’s up and lighting the chairs and altar that are still down there at the end of the garden.  Dean can see that their candle is still lit.  “Look Sammy, our candle’s still lit down there.”

Sam joins him in looking out the window, “Huh, wonder how long it’ll burn for?”

“Wonder if it’s one of those eternal flame deals, might have to get a holder for it, keep it up here.”

“Did that really all happen Dean?”

“Yes Sam, we’re actually married.”

Sam hits him in the shoulder, “No, I know that.  I mean what happened, when we lit that candle and the spell took us there.  Did we really do that? It seems so unreal now.”

“Yeah, we sure as hell did.  I asked Cas and Meg about it, and they said the tablecloth with the spell written on it was in their room when they got back here yesterday.  So they suspect Meredith and Mohit had a hand in it somehow.  It really was her final gift to us.”

“To Meredith then.  Long may she love her fairy prince.”  Sam raises his almost empty champagne glass.

“To Meredith and Mohit.” Dean answers, clinking their glasses together.

Sam drains his champagne and sets his glass down on the end table.  He pulls Dean in closer to him, so that he’s practically on his lap.  “I could see you Dean.  Every part of you, inside and out.”

“I know, me too.  Pretty wild huh?”

“You’ve heard this a million times from me, but you’re beautiful, especially on the inside, now I really know that.” Sam says, kissing the side of Dean’s neck.

“That’s just because you’re in me too doofus.  So you are also.” Dean turns his head and looks at Sam’s eyes to make sure he hears him.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get over seeing that, how thoroughly mixed together we really are.” Sam says, holding Dean’s gaze.

“Probably the point of the whole thing huh? Us seeing that?”  Dean nods, smiling at the memory of seeing their dust clouds swirling together.

“Meredith really knew what we needed.”

“That she did, between this place and that spell, it’s like she was our fairy godmother or something.” Dean says.

“Maybe she was, if there’s even such a thing.”

“Or she was just another person we helped, and for once they were able to pay us back.  It was bound to happen eventually.” Dean says.

“I think a lot of the people we helped over the years gave us things, just nothing this big and permanent.” Sam observes.

“The only permanent thing I care about is you and me.” Dean says, giving Sam’s shoulders a squeeze.

“Sounds about right.  The rest is just stuff.  After a life of living out of the car, it’s weird to have all this stuff to keep track of.”

“Sometimes I get really tired just thinking about it all.  Like it would be easier to just pack up and drive away, leave it all behind, and let the Smuggler’s Notch Historical Society have the house or whatever.”

“But, what about Meredith, and what we promised her?” Sam asks.

“I know I know, it’s just a thought. She probably wouldn’t have left if we didn’t promise to take care of the place.” Dean answers.

“Houses like this really have a pull on people, the place gets its own personality and charisma.”

“If you keep the garden going the way it is, we’re going to be rolling in the stuff.” Dean says, sounding very proud of Sam’s garden.

“You saying I have a charismatic garden Dean?’

‘Yeah, it’s pretty kickass Sammy, you’ve got a knack.”

“Well, I never thought you’d turn out to be such a good cook.”

“Thanks, I always wanted to cook you better stuff, you know when we were kids.  Just didn’t have the tools or the money.”

“You did fine, cheesy mac and hot dogs got me to where I am today.” Sam says, remembering how happy he was when Dean would make his favorite.

“Yeah, I should have stuck to popsicles or something, maybe you wouldn’t have turned out so damn tall.”

“Hey Dean?”

“Yeah Sammy?”

“You know I’m tall just to bug you right?”

“Yeah, duh, of course.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever had such a good day in my life. Thank you.” Sam says quietly.

“It’s not over yet.”

“What do you mean?” Sam asks.

“Sammy, it’s our _wedding night_.”

“Ohhhh.”

  
**~FIN~**


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